Be More Myself
by AV21
Summary: Everyone changes. Tony is confronted with the man he used to be, and the people who believe he doesn't have the capacity to have become a better man.  Gibbs/Tony, Father/Son, but but still largely a team/case fic. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

**Title:** Be More Myself

**Category:** Gibbs/DiNozzo, Father/Son emphasis. But sin the context of a crime fic, with a healthy dose of team love.

**Rating:** T for occasional swearing.

**Summary: **Everyone changes. Tony is confronted with the man he used to be, and the people who believe he doesn't have the capacity to have become a better man.

**Excerpt:** Tony looked up and answered the question his teammates couldn't verbalize. "You never wondered why I rebel against every authority figure, but for Gibbs I'm a loyal St. Bernard? Why I've never taken a promotion, or a job offer, or got pissed Gibbs abandoned us, or held a grudge that he came back, or decked him for being a bastard?" Tony read the surprise in their body language. They'd asked the question for forms sake a long time ago, but never really wondered. Tony just _belonged_ with Gibbs.

"I owe him _everything_. And I'll be with him, whatever he does, until he tells me to get the hell out. Gibbs saved my job, my life, and hell, my soul. I owe him _everything._"

**A/N:** A plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. I've always sort of wondered what it was that Gibbs did to command loyal St. Bernard devotion from Tony, and this is my story why. Will post on Mondays and Thursdays, barring any unforeseen illnesses or internet outages. Hope you enjoy, and that I've done these terrific characters justice!

* * *

"I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord, be more myself." - Prince Hal, Henry IV Part I

* * *

Jethro Gibbs didn't look up from his stack of paperwork when Tobias Fornell came to stand in front of his desk, impatiently waiting to have his presence acknowledged by the NCIS agent. Gibbs wanted nothing more than to have an empty afternoon finishing paperwork so he could send his team home early. Sending them off meant Gibbs could go home, work on his boat, and ignore the feeling that they were teetering on the edge of something big and were about to get pushed. He'd ignored the sinking in his gut since before his first cup of coffee that morning, and if Tobias would just walk away, Gibbs could keep ignoring.

"Your office?" Fornell interrupted Gibbs' typing when he couldn't stand the waiting anymore.

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"Whatever you have to say, I don't wanna hear it."

A flicker of surprise flashed across Fornell's face, obviously reading more into Gibbs's statement than any of the evesdropping team. "How did you…?" Gibbs glanced up from the papers, looking at Fornell like he was a fool. Gibbs had no idea what Fornell was there for, but Fornell seemed to think he should, and apparently it was bad.

"Ah, you didn't … it was your damn gut." Gibbs looked back down at his paperwork, leaving Fornell to sigh at his stubbornness. "You know Jethro, if you weren't such a scary bastard the organized crime boys wouldn't have to send _me_ when they need a message delivered to you."

"Organized crime has nothing I wanna hear, either."

"Good thing they're not the one saying something worth delivering, then."

Gibbs's head shot up, calming stating, "Tobias," warning him off whatever message he carried. Gibbs' gut didn't want it said. Especially if it was something the organized crime boys at the Bureau were too scared to tell Gibbs themselves. There was only one case Gibbs had dealt with them on, and it was something Gibbs wanted to stay buried.

"Jethro." Fornell's tone was slightly apologetic, but not conciliatory. He'd follow his orders, whether or not he wanted to deliver it or Gibbs wanted to hear it. "I have to."

"No, you don't."

"He's clammed up, Gibbs. We have agents waiting in the middle of an op for the information that he's holding. We need him to talk, and the only thing he's asking for, which is the only demand he's made in a long time, is a message to your boy. I'll do what I have to to protect those agents, even if it means pissing you off."

"Tobias!" Gibbs stuck to single words to convey the depth of his irritation with Fornell.

"Pardon me, Agent Gibbs, but I don't need your permission." Gibbs moved to stand up, but Fornell had already stepped over to Tony's desk and started speaking. "DiNutso. He wanted me to tell you that 'Five years is too long for Sally not to hear from Holly.'"

Ziva and McGee shot one another frantic looks, trying to piece together the substance of the mini fight between Gibbs and Fornell, which was the kind of thing the two usually only did in the privacy of the elevator. And more importantly, why in the world Tony was at the center of it.

Tony, however, didn't even pause in typing his report to look at Fornell as he played messenger. "That it, Fornell?"

"Yup."

"Good. What's the number?"

"What number?" Fornell's eyes didn't widen this time, not at all confused at what Tony was asking for, but pretending for form's sake.

"What's the number you're supposed to call to tell them if I'm in or not?"

Fornell stared at Tony for a moment, not really bothering to hold to his denial about Tony's question. He picked up Tony's desk phone and dialed in the number before handing it over to DiNozzo's waiting hand. He shouldn't have put Tony on that phone, but Fornell didn't like being strong-armed into this situation any more than Gibbs or Tony. He'd been around the last time they were forced to make nice with the organized crime boys, and it still rankled him.

The other end of Tony's call picked up on the fourth ring, which was a sure sign to Tony that whoever was supposed to be securing his help either wasn't that good or wasn't that invested, because if they were, the phone would've been answered before the second ring. "Tell Sally that Holly says he can go screw himself."

Ziva and McGee kept staring and trying to piece together a story from the scant information they'd been given, while Tony dropped the phone into its cradle and went back to typing. Like nothing had happened. Fornell kept watching him, which Tony ignored for half a page before cracking and looking up at the FBI agent. "Anything else I can help you with Agent Fornell?"

Fornell paused for a moment before smiling and stating, "You did good, DiNozzo." He didn't wait to see Tony's slight grin, but turned and nodded a goodbye to Gibbs before heading back to the elevator. Tony and Gibbs didn't make a move to answer the crate of questions they'd just opened, and went back to report drafting. All Ziva and McGee could do was share a look that emphatically said, 'What the hell just happened?'


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Two chapters for today, just because it's the beginning and I have a long weekend. Hope you're all having a lovely and contemplative Memorial Day in the States! Thanks for reading!

* * *

"We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves." - Lynn Hall

* * *

They had an hour of nervous waiting before Tony got another call. An hour spent with Ziva and McGee carefully watching the adrenaline drain out of Tony, leaving him mildly shell-shocked at the conversation he'd just had. And though every time the actually _watched_ Gibbs he glared them into submission, they did see on his face a blend of pride and concerned anticipation. Ziva would guess that whatever _had_ just happened, Tony had passed the first round, but they were all nowhere near done. Hence, the air of waiting in the bullpen.

Tony answered his ringing phone with a, "DiNozzo." Pause. "Alright, Bob. Send her up."

"Whatcha got, DiNozzo?" Gibbs sounded calm, but like the rest of the team he was getting geared up mentally.

"Bob, down at the security desk, says there's a girl downstairs who wants to report an abduction."

"And Bob called the senior agent of Major Case, because…?"

"He said the girl asked for me, Boss." On a typical day, Ziva would've taken this moment to make an ex-girlfriend joke at Tony's expense, but the clenched anticipation that resurfaced in Gibbs's jaw the moment Tony's phone started ringing was enough to make her cautious.

"Probably nothing, Boss." They all heard the elevator ding behind them, and Tony rose to his feet while his nervousness upped what should have been one comment to a fully-fledged ramble. "Bet we did a case involving someone she knew, and she just thinks I'm less …" Tony's commentary stopped at the sight of the girl coming off the elevator.

McGee couldn't help but let his writer's brain wax poetic at the sight of her. At the age of 23 she was almost as tall as Gibbs, with long blonde hair tied up behind her in a braid. Her features were strong and clear, with high cheekbones and tanned skin just imperfect enough to have nothing to do with a tanning bed. Even without those features, she would've been stunning from her eyes alone. They were a wide, honey brown, with a gentle and kind hue, offset at this moment by the fan of black and purple starting at her nose and bursting around her left eye. The shade might have been taken for too much shadow on any other day, but on this one, it faded to sickly yellow just below her finely cut cheekbone. Which meant that about 16 hours ago someone had slammed their fist into that lovely face.

Tony froze for a beat before abandoning his desk and wrapping him arms around her. She bit back a sob at his embrace, so he wove his fingers through her hair and pulled her even tighter. They moved from their place outside the elevator just a hair before the whole squad room noticed and started to gossip.

Tony tugged her to his desk and set her down in his chair while he knelt before her. "Oh, Maeve." he sighed, trailing his fingers gently along the bruise. "What happened?"

Her answer came spilling out rushed, "I should've called you, Tonio, first thing, but I though the Old Man could fix it! We've had threats before, and even time I've called him he's made it right before I even hung up the phone."

"Kid, who hit you?"

She put her hand up to her face, shocked at the pain when she touched the bruise, as though she'd forgotten it was even there. Maeve was still for a moment, just long enough for the reality of last night to come crashing back down on her and lead her to panic. "They took Eli!"

"Eli's the same boyfriend as before?"

"Of course he's the same one! They dragged him out of our apartment, Tony! We tried to fight them, but I must've hit my head on something when they hit me, because I don't know what happened!" Tony stood up to lean behind her and check her skull for blood or bumps, but she grabbed his hands to pull his focus back to her.

"Tony, I don't know what happened to him. I don't know where he it!"

Tony just cradled her face in his hands, stilling her panic. "Mae, did you see a doctor?"

"What did they do to him?" Her voice was desperate, and Tony could feel his own control slipping at her terror. Gibbs carefully stood from his desk, motioning to Ziva to stay seated when she moved to join him. The last thing they needed was Maeve stressed more by feeling trapped. The worse she got, the worse Tony would, and that spelled trouble.

"Tony." Gibbs paused at the sudden tensing of Tony's shoulders. Gibbs knew that despite his concern for the girl, Tony was probably just as nervous about Gibbs reaction to her presence anywhere near him. Gibbs had been very clear about the Old Man keeping anyone he had _anything_ to do with away from Tony.

Gibbs rested a reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder just long enough to squeeze and say, "If you're going to take her statement you should make it official." The girl had cringed away at Gibbs's approach, but when he gave his permission, her head popped up with surprised gratitude. "From what I remember your boyfriend was a marine, which makes his abduction our jurisdiction. So Mae, remind me about your marine's full name." Her eyes grew softer at each word delivered by Gibbs in the gentle tone he reserved for shocked victims. She didn't think he should be treating her with the kindness he was showing, but he did it anyway, and for the thousandth time in her life, she was grateful Tonio had chosen Gibbs instead of her father.

" Lieutenant Elias David Snyder."

"McGee."

Tim froze for a moment at the switch in Gibbs's tone from comforting back to business. "Financials, phones, and service records."

"Ziva."

She was quicker on the shift, thanks to McGee going first. "Security footage from the apartment building and surrounding businesses. Then canvas the building for witnesses."

"DiNozzo."

"Take Mae down to visit Ducky." Tony tugged her hand and pulled her out of the chair before Gibbs got the headslap in. "Right, Boss. You'll take Miss Macaluso down to see Ducky while I give McGee and Ziva some background so they know what in the world they're looking for, and _then_ I'll come down to question Maeve."

She glanced nervously at her hand clenched around Tony's and then to Gibbs, still and stalwart as ever. Gibbs caught the flickers of long held fear in her eyes and the comforting brush of DiNozzo's thumb across her knuckles before Gibbs sighed and completely altered McGee's and Ziva's world views.

He held out his hand for Maeve to take in exchange for Tony's. She slowly pulled her hand from Tony's and paused for a moment in the air above Gibbs', trying to reconcile the man standing in front of her with the one she remembered from five years ago. After a deep breath she let her hand drop into Gibbs's, believing that whoever Tony believed in, that was who she was going to start to trust. Believing in anyone else had gotten Eli abducted.

The whole team stayed stock still until Gibbs and Maeve were safely tucked away in the elevator, and it was McGee who broke the silence. "What just happened?"

"Gibbs took a witness to see Ducky." Tony moved to his computer to call up the info he'd need on the plasma.

"Witnesses don't _see_ Ducky. And Gibbs doesn't hold hands. What. just. happened?"

"Don't worry about. Kids, let me introduce Maeve Macaluso." Tony plowed past the affronted looks in their eyes that Tony wasn't questioning Gibbs' behavior, and probably knew exactly what was going on and not telling. He set right in on background information by pulling up Maeve's photo, and hoped they would let the story lie for the time being. They seemed to consent when they stepped in front of the screen with Tony still at his desk.

"She goes by Maeve Ryan, her mother's surname, because Macaluso carries weight she doesn't want anything to do with. She's the youngest child and only daughter of Giovanni Macaluso, Baltimore crime lord." A flash on the plasma showed a picture of a smiling Italian man, clearly where Maeve had gotten her cheekbones from.

"Gio developed an obsession with all things Great Britain after he read too many King Arthur stories as a kid. He even ran away to Britain with his nanny to look for Avalon when he was eight. Which means that when he was done having sons to take over the family business, he had a string of mistresses from all over the British Isles, the favorite of which was a lovely Irish widow who gave him Maeve and then died in childbirth. He loved Mae's mother, a _lot_, and instead of disowning Maeve and putting her up for adoption like the family demanded for illegitimate kids, especially daughters, he spoiled her rotten."

"What? Tony, how could you know that?"

"Getting there, Probie. She's got four older brothers, the second of which is Mike." Another picture popped up on screen, a younger and grubbier version of Giovanni with thinner eyes and a crueler mouth, and accompanied by a criminal record. "The family business is divided between the sons, the first mans the drugs, the third gets the girls, the fourth gets the guns, the second, Mike, was the hatchet man and a fully-fledged psychopath. He murdered at least eleven people, one of which was a marine and the best friend of Mae's missing boyfriend, Eli. That's how Maeve and Eli met actually, both waiting to be interviewed."

"Wait, wait, wait. Baltimore crime boss. Who killed a marine." Ziva let the pause hang for a moment then slowly turned in synch with McGee to stare at Tony, and at their realization the words came out in a rush. "This is how you met Gibbs!"

They both bounded back to Tony's desk, thrilled to have gotten this much information out of him. For someone so willing to never shut up, Tony had always found a way around telling the story. They didn't even know that Gibbs had picked up Tony off a case instead of an interview before today. No amount of liquor had been able to coax the tale from him, Abby had been on vacation when Gibbs had found Tony, and despite probably knowing every last detail Ducky kept anything about it to himself. In short: they knew next to nothing about the story. Tony held up his hands as they chased him around his desk, trying to corner him in.

"How did you catch Macaluso?" McGee started.

Ziva continued, "Why did he kill the marine?"

"Did Gibbs give you the 'don't call me sir' lecture?"

"Did you get into a fight over jurisdiction like he does with all the other LEOs who don't know better?"

They had Tony backed up against the plasma before he threw up his hands and shouted, "Stop! None of this is relevant to the traumatized girl downstairs who wants us to find her boyfriend!" McGee and Ziva drew back slightly. A little abashed at trying to pull out the story when there was a case, but still more interested in getting him to talk.

"Our obvious abductors would be rivals of Gio Macaluso, people who want to piss him off by taking a future in-law, but not piss him off too much by taking his daughter. There's always the chance this has nothing to do with the family, so don't pigeonhole. If anyone turns up in our conversation with her, Gibbs and I will let you know."

"Tony, we know what we're doing." McGee replied in a slightly annoyed tone.

Tony fought back the urge to snap at McGee, but his frustration wasn't really at him. Tony ran a hand through his hair, sticking it up at all odd angles and praying to whatever deity up there who didn't hate him that everything from Baltimore could just stay buried. Maybe in 20 minutes they'd find this was all a practical joke and no one could ever bring it up again. Completely impossible, but Tony still hoped.

McGee knew that had been the wrong thing to say when he saw Tony's fidgety reaction, he just didn't know why, so he tried again, playing to Tony's knowledge of the subject. "You said Mike went to prison, but what about the rest of the family?" Judging from Tony's flinch, that wasn't the right approach either.

"No one has been able to pin anything on the rest of the Macaluso clan, and since Gio is a fountain of info to the FBI, they do their best to keep him out of trouble. Now, if you kids need me, I'll be in autopsy." Tony made for the elevator, but McGee stopped him with a shout.

What McGee wanted to ask was what in the world happened in Baltimore that Tony didn't want to talk about it. Because there was a directly proportional relationship between how EPIC a story was, and how much Tony didn't want to talk about it. Pneumonic plague? Someone on the team had to tell the doctors, and it never happened before halfway through a hospital visit. Undercover ops? The sort of double life that only people in the CIA led was not, _ever_, to be mentioned, especially not with pride.

There were two options with what happened to get Tony hired, and only one of them was possible. Either the story was so amazing that it made Tony uncomfortable to talk about, or Tony had done something so wrong he wanted it buried. It couldn't be the latter, because Gibbs wouldn't have hired Tony if it were that. So McGee _knew_ the story had to be beyond belief, and he wanted to hear it.

McGee stuffed his curiosity at the slightly worn look now on Tony, and asked the question he knew would kelp put everything to rights. "Sally and Holly?"

Tony smirked. "Sally Tomato and Holly Golightly. _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, 1961, Audrey Hepburn in one of her most iconic roles. Come on Probie, we watched this for team movie night a couple of years ago."

"Right! She goes to Sing Sing every week to visit a mob boss." The silence held there for a moment, because McGee wanted to know why a mob boss would ask Tony to visit. But he didn't ask. "You should get down to autopsy. Gibbs won't wait forever." Ziva smiled at McGee's terribly unsubtle declaration they would let the story go, for now, and made shooing motions at Tony.

Their patience was worth it when he gave his real smile.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Many thanks to the people who lovely people who put down story alerts for this fic. You've made a particularly exhausting week all the brighter. Hope your days are less hectic than mine, and that your summers are going well! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

The last time Gibbs saw Maeve Macaluso she had her back plastered against the far wall of her father's study, trying not to cry as Gibbs pulled his gun back from under Gio Macaluso's chin and let him drop to the floor. According to FBI surveillance Maeve had left Gio's house right after Gibbs did, and went straight to Eli's apartment. Now she contacted her father once a month, exchanged pleasantries for ten minutes, and only called when something went horribly wrong.

Gio Macaluso was the most manipulative bastard Gibbs had ever come across, and his daughter knew that now. She'd been there when Macaluso took Tony, there when Gibbs took him back, and there in that tiny room when Gibbs blew past all their expensive security, shoved his gun in Gio's face, and told him that no Macaluso was to cross paths with Tony DiNozzo, any NCIS agent, or any marine, ever again. Hell, if Gibbs was in a particularly foul mood they weren't even to conduct their business in DC.

And for five years they hadn't.

Partially because Gio knew that if Jethro Gibbs really threw his weight around and demanded the FBI stop coddling Gio and put him behind bars, they would. Mainly because the whole damn building owed Gibbs favors. But he mainly stayed away because Gio loved Tony, and he didn't want the boy killed in a gang war. But Gio and Gibbs had different views about keeping Tony safe. Gio wanted him in the family business, protected by their clout, and Gibbs wanted Tony as far away from it as humanly possible.

Tony had done too good a job on the undercover op that put him with the Macaluso's seven years ago. Gio had known from the beginning that Tony wouldn't turn, but he didn't care. He just liked the kid. Gibbs wasn't sure if that was a testament to how good DiNozzo was that he stayed, or how cocky Macaluso was that he could keep a cop around.

Now, Gibbs held the still shaking hand of Gio's favorite child. Gibbs remembered feeling like he was ancient by the time he was Mae's age, but looking at the girl standing next to him, he understood how young he must've really been. She trailed slightly behind him when they stepped off the elevator, letting him lead the way to autopsy.

Thankfully, Duck and Palmer lacked in any of their usual guests, and were settled in for afternoon tea when Gibbs got there. "Hey, Duck."

"Well hello, Jethro. And who have you brought with you to visit?" Ducky's question was kind and honest, not yet remembering Maeve from their last encounter. But she shuffled close behind Gibbs, gripping her left wrist in her right hand, a nervous habit Ducky remembered.

"Hello, Doctor Mallard." Ducky's eyes widened as the memories came rushing back. There was a tense moment as Mae remembered a fair amount of rage from the last time she saw the usually mild mannered doctor, but as Ducky's eyes drifted over the bruise on her face and her hand clenched in Jethro's, he gave her his gentlest smile.

With arms outstretched he ushered her over to his chair rather than onto one of the tables and said, "Come here, my dear, and let me see that bruise."

She relaxed instantly and smiled at him when Jimmy was sent to the break room for ice. He settled her into his chair and sent Jethro into the office for the first aide kit Ducky kept around for living patients, all the while keeping up a stream of one-sided conversation. "I must say my dear, I had expected to see you again at some point, but I never expected it to be under these circumstances. I had always thought young Anthony would neglect to answer his phone one night when Jethro called him, which means we all would have to rush to his apartment in a panic that something dreadful had happened, and we would find him laughing too uproariously at some film with you to be bothered to answer. However, if this gets you back in our presence sooner rather than later, I must admit, I am not entirely ungrateful for it. Though, I have a feeling when you tell us the story behind that bruise, I shall feel like a terribly selfish old man."

Ducky's ramble was interrupted by Mae throwing her arms around him in bliss for the return of the Doctor she remembered from the first time the Macaluso's dealt with NCIS and not the enraged variation from the second. "Thank you, Doctor Mallard," trusting him to recognize she meant the forgiveness, as well as the medical help.

"It's Ducky, my dear. As I'm sure you well remember. You giggled quite a bit at my nickname when you were 16."

She snorted in response, and said, "When I was 16 and had Tony in the room I giggled at _everything_, Ducky."

"What can I say, Duck? That's just the effect I have on women." Tony blew into autopsy radiating calm, but both men knew better. He was tense from the bullpen, but whatever it was that had him wound up, he was thankfully back on his way back down to calm.

"Teenagers are the only people your charm works on, DiNozzo." Gibbs retorted, but any impact he might've had was destroyed by the girl bounding out of Ducky's chair and into Tony's arms. He grunted as though she'd rammed into him too hard, but that's just what Tony did when younger women gave him hugs.

Tony stroked his hand through her hair again, settling her before saying, "Lets go have Ducky check you out, ok?"

He tugged her back to Ducky's chair while muttering, "Sorry, it's just…"

"Don't worry about it, Mae. I get it." And Tony did know. Sometimes you just need to be tucking in the arms of someone you trust while the world spins out of control around you.

Gibbs went to the door and took the cups of ice from Palmer, sending him on his way with a look. Gibbs took out a plastic bag to pack the ice while Tony did the questioning. "Kiddo, tell me what happened last night."

"Eli and I went out to a movie, then we came home, unlocked the door, and, well, we were kissing so we didn't bother with the lights. They jumped Eli while the apartment was still dark."

"How long were the two of you out last night?"

"Umm, the movie started at 7:30, I think, and we didn't get home until around 10:00."

"You go to dinner?"

"No, I got home from work late, so we just had popcorn at the theater."

Tony chucked, "Does Eli still put too much salt on his?" Tony proceeded to keep her calm and check her alibi though a chat about favorite popcorn blends at Baltimore theaters, without Maeve noticing Tony was actually checking up on her alibi.

"Have you received any threats lately, Mae?"

"No. Life has been good, and quiet. We haven't heard from the family at all. I'm working part time and taking classes, and Eli is on leave for three months. He just got back two weeks ago. Life was perfect."

"So, you stumble into the apartment last night, don't turn on the light, and then what happens?"

"I didn't even know anyone was there! The door slammed shut, and I got pulled away from Eli. I remember scuffling sounds, and grunts, but I got hit too fast. I don't even remember hitting my head on anything to knock me unconscious."

"Did you happen to feel a pinch?" Ducky interrupted.

"Umm…" Maeve closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the moments between kitting the floor and blacking out. "I think. Maybe on my left thigh."

"Excellent, my dear. If you wouldn't mind stepping into my office for a moment so you can have some privacy while I check for needle marks."

"Needle marks?"

"The pinch you felt was a needle prick, presumably delivering some sort of anesthetic to render you unconscious. I presume that you haven't had your blood drawn since the incident last night?"

She shook her no, to which Ducky sighed, "Then I'm afraid all traces of the drug are likely to have left your system. On the off chance that they haven't we'll test your blood anyway, just to be sure."

"Just a few more questions, Duck. Then she'll take every test you've got for her." Gibbs shot her a look that demanded she be a model patient for Ducky.

"What else do you need to know, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs tugged over another chair, sitting down in front of Maeve and asked, "We need to know what happened this morning." This was the part of the story that none of them really wanted to acknowledge, but it had to happen.

"I woke up, and I remembered what happened, and, and I called the Old Man."

"Giovanni Macaluso."

"Yes sir." Gibbs flinched at the 'sir', and smirked at her, to which she grinned and relaxed. "Sorry about that."

Gibbs nodded his head with a 'don't worry about it' face, and asked, "Why didn't you call the police?"

"I panicked. And calling my father is the same as calling the FBI, and I thought they'd fix it. He told me to sit tight, and he'd take care of everything." She paused for a moment to sigh, then continued. "But he didn't. He sounded mad when he called back, but I don't know why. I guess the FBI didn't much care about finding Eli. Gio said he was still negotiating with the FBI, I called Agent Fornell. He was the FBI liason the last time I was around, and I thought he could put me in contact with Tony. Guess my dad had the same idea.

"The FBI sent Fornell to deliver Gio's message, but just in case you said no, Fornell had some agents bring me to the Navy Yard so _I_ could ask you. He told me what happened when he asked for Gio, and I then I came up to ask myself."

"So the Bureau hasn't started any sort of investigation into Eli's disappearance?" Uh oh. Gibbs had out his barely-restrained-fury voice, which meant there was an inter-agency smack down coming in the not too distant future.

"I don't think so. Agent Fornell was pissed at the organized crime division, and from what he was saying, they were using the Eli situation as leverage against Gio, but I'm not sure. Fornell wasn't exactly talking to me at the time."

Tony snorted, "Evesdropping on federal agents, Maeve? Seriously?"

"Shut up, Tonio. It's not like you don't do it all the time."

"I'm paid to do it, Mae."

"DiNozzo."

"Grab Mae's keys, check out the apartment, and interview neighbors. On it, Boss." Mae slipped Tony her keys before Gibbs even had the chance to stop him.

"DiNozzo!"

"... Take, Ziva with me, Boss?"

"No, DiNozzo. Warm a desk in the bullpen and do background with McGee while Ziva and I check out the apartment." Gibbs was up and heading for the elevator before Tony even got out his squwak in protest.

"But, Gibbs!"

"No, DiNozzo."

Tony continued pleading and Gibbs kept ignoring, while the men made their way out of autopsy and up the elevator. Maeve smiled and turned to Ducky, "They haven't changed at all, have they?"

"Changed, my dear? Of course not. If anything at all, they'd simply become more themselves as time has worn on. And stubborn is most definitely what they are."

Ducky moved to usher her into his office, but Mae grabbed his hand. "I am sorry, Ducky. About what my father did to them."

"It wasn't your fault."

"No, but I could've done something. I could've helped you find him, and I didn't. Tony loved me like a sister, and I just ..."

"_Loves,_ my dear girl. Anthony _loves_ you like a sister."

Ducky tapped her cheek, trying to bring back that smile she'd had but a moment ago. "Why is Gibbs doing this? Why is he helping me?"

"Child, you could feel no remorse for what happened and Jethro would still help you because you love a marine. However, this isn't just about duty. He helps because he wants to."

"But, why?"

"That's just the sort of man Jethro is." Ducky ushered her into his office so she could have enough privacy to disrobe and put on a hospital gown so Ducky could check for the needle mark and any other injuries they may have missed. For all his kind words, Ducky couldn't help but think, 'Just the sort of man your father isn't. And why Tony chose Jethro instead.'


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Because this chapter is short, and I didn't reply quickly to those of you kind enough to review, and not a lot happens in this chapter, and my tomato plants are thriving, I give you two chapters. May your day have started as perfectly, perfect as mine. Dude, that was sappy of me. Sorry. I really like tomatoes. ;)

* * *

McGee leaned back and half-heartedly kicked his computer tower. Ziva tried not to laugh. He was supposed to be running a standard search through law enforcement records on Maeve and her boyfriend. It did not seem to be going well.

McGee wasn't prone to acts of violence, and thought it absolutely barbaric to hit either women or electronics, but he was too frustrated to stop himself. Ziva loved the fact that even in a moment of pure irritation, the most violent thing Tim could come up with was a tap. Really, it was akin to a head-smack with his foot. He'd been frantically typing for the last 10 minutes, finally resorting to Tony-style pounding of keys when he couldn't take it anymore.

"Something wrong, McGee?"

He jumped at Ziva's interruption to his focus. He was a little embarrassed at being taken surprised and a lot pissed at his computer, so his answer was a blunt and pouty, "No."

"Really? Because you seem to taking a paper from the John Shepard book of computer repair."

"It's page, and … wait, did you just make a Stargate reference?" The shock of Ziva's use of sci-fi was enough to bring a slight smile to McGee's face, which was what she'd been going for.

"You better not be referencing tv shows unless you've found me Lieutenant Snyder." Gibbs appeared from the basement without any warning, and glowered at McGee from across his desk. When McGee just sputtered in reply, Gibbs kept his glare steady, but asked "Ziva, why aren't getting ready to canvas the apartment building?"

"McGee doesn't have the search running yet."

"It's not my fault, Boss! Something's wrong with the system."

"Your computer broken, McGee?" Tony leaned against his own desk, shooting for a comment just light enough to irritate Gibbs into looking at him instead of the rapidly wilting McGee.

"It's not that, I think it's … hold on." It was a testament to how much McGee had grown that he was willing to ignore Gibbs in favor of his computer when inspiration struck.

"You know Boss, Ziva and I could just …"

"No."

"Come on, Boss, it's not …"

"No, DiNozzo."

"We'll be in and out …"

Gibbs stepped away from McGee's desk and into Tony's face, with every word measured and deliberate. "DiNozzo. You will stop talking. You will sit your ass down behind that desk. You will. not. leave this office without me standing next to you."

McGee was too busy pounding his keys with a furrowed expression to notice the conversation happening next to his desk. But Ziva wasn't.

Gibbs had Tony's superior height and wider frame backed up against his own desk, and looked for all the world like a little boy being chastened by his father for breaking a window. But the more Gibbs spoke, the worse Tony looked. He collapsed in on himself, his shoulders slumping, and looking almost heartbroken.

That … was unusual.

Typically, when Gibbs actually _hurt _Tony's feelings, Tony brushed it off, threw on a smile, and kept going until Gibbs found a way to make it up to him. But now, Tony was hurt enough to actually _look_ hurt. And over something so practical and perfectly reasonable as Gibbs not wanting Tony to ask questions about a Macaluso since he'd put one in prison.

This did not make sense. Usually when things did not add up in her understanding of Tony and Gibbs, Ziva let it go, assuming enough time would grant her the story, or at least a better understanding of their dynamic. But this day had turned out to be one moment after another that she simply didn't grasp.

"Boss, I wouldn't… I _won't_…"

Ziva caught Gibbs's irate grimace before he emphatically slapped Tony's head. "Son of a… Tony!" Gibbs shook his head, holding back the string of whatever he _actually_ wanted to say in favor of something less inflammatory. Or loud. Either one. Ziva wasn't sure. "This isn't about _that_, this about you not getting shot by one of Macaluso's goons 'cause you were seen anywhere near his kid's apartment!"

"Oh." Tony scanned Gibbs's eyes for a moment, before he obviously found the truth of the statement that he was looking for, and swelled back up to his regular height. "Boss, Ziva'll protect me. " Tony grinned impishly as Gibbs smacked him again.

"DiNozzo, Ass. Chair." Gibbs waited until Tony was actually settled _in_ the chair before shouting, "McGee!"

"Yeah, Boss. I think ... got it!"

"You all excited that you got your searches to run, McGee?"

His face fell as he stuttered, "Well, no Boss. But I did figure out why." Gibbs just stared, unwilling to waste words on making McGee explain. "We're being blocked by the FBI." The words came out in a rapid spill, which didn't serve to make Gibbs's mood any better.

He leaned over, completely infringing on McGee's space once again and almost whispered, "McGee, you're telling me that you're getting your ass kicked by the FBI?"

"NO, Boss! I mean, I can get through, it's just gonna take time. This isn't just their regular security, this is something new. Like, they built it for us, like they knew we were coming."

"Cause they did, McGee." Gibbs popped up and started for the Director's office to update her on the latest interagency screw over by the FBI.

"Wait, they…"

"They knew we'd go looking once Fornell came by, whatever's going on, they want us out of it. Get down to Abby's lab, McGee, and find out what they're up to! Ziva, wait for me and we'll do the canvas!"

Gibbs ran up the stairs and out of earshot, giving Ziva the chance to corner Tony at his desk. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"_Tony!_ You just let Gibbs put you on desk duty! You never go on desk duty, even when you should! The last time you stayed put you had a bullet wound and Gibbs cuffed you to your chair!" She'd kept talking as she tailed Tony around the bullpen, demanding an answer by forcing him to acknowledge how _ridiculous_ the situation was.

"What's your point, Ziva?"

"You don't go on desk duty, Tony. You don't do it when you're injured, you don't do it when you're ordered, and you definitely don't do it when a friend needs help." She grabbed his arm and spun him to face her. "So what's going on?"

"_Nothing_, Ziva."

"Horse shit."

"It's _bullshit_, Ziva. Though if you grew up on a farm I'd let you get away with 'horseshit'".

"She's your friend, Tony. I've seen you do far more stupid things than roam around a neighborhood asking questions about a girl. Even a mob boss's daughter. _Especially_, when we'll be using her pseudonym! And judging by the amount of yelling we _both_ can hear coming from the Director's office, Jenny wants to have a rational discussion about this with Gibbs and the FBI in MTAC instead of just letting McGee and Abby hack. Meaning Gibbs will be trapped up there for at least an hour while she plays politics.

"I _know_ you think Eli doesn't have the time for us to sit on our hands and make nice. You want to be at their apartment already, not leashed to your desk because Gibbs is having an overprotective day. That's not the sort of man you are." Tony looked for a flash like he'd been sucker punched. Ziva thought she may have been a little too aggressive, but she had to be in the hopes Tony wouldn't notice she was trying to wrangle information from him. "Unless, of course, Gibbs has a legitimate reason to be so nervous about you being anywhere near the Macalusos?"

The shocked look on Tony's face solidified into his cocky grin. 'Damn,' she thought. She didn't push hard enough to keep Tony off balance. "Nope Zee-va. Nothing I can think of. Let's go interview us some neighbors and catalogue us a crime scene."

He strode back to his desk, grabbing his gun, badge, and gear before heading to the elevator, with Ziva following hesitantly behind. She was desperately trying to come with a reason to back out of forcing Tony's hand, but nothing was coming. Well, nothing short of admitting she'd been trying to coerce him.

The elevator doors opened and Tony hesitated to glance up to the Director's office (from which there was even more yelling). Ziva thought she might be saved by Tony's refusal to disobey Gibbs, but no such luck. He steeled his shoulders and stepped into the compartment. As she settled in next to him Tony muttered, "By the way, when he kills me for this, it's _you_ I'm haunting."

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Special thanks to Maz101 who informed me I had this miscategorized. You're a peach for protecting me from my own ditziness.  


* * *

It took Gibbs 45 minutes to convince Jenny that the Bureau wasn't going to play nice, mainly by standing next to her in MTAC and shooting derisive glares at the FBI Director while he pretended to not be sure about his agency stonewalling one of its sisters. As soon as Jen gave Gibbs 'the look' that gave him free rein to do anything short of getting caught, Gibbs dashed out of MTAC. He already knew that DiNozzo hadn't waited that long.

Gibbs spared a glance to the sight of his empty bullpen as he went down the stairs, pulling out his cell to yell at DiNozzo for whatever reason he thought he had to not be in his chair.

* * *

Tony knew it was Gibbs without checking the caller ID, and just handed the phone over to Ziva. He figured he was screwed already, so might as well add less than stellar obedience of Rule #3 to the list of reasons he was a dead man.

Ziva flipped open the phone and answered on Tony's behalf, "Special Agent DiNozzo's phone." She knew that Tony would distract Gibbs from her involvement in this the moment they got back to the office, so the least she could do was handle one irate phone call.

"Where the hell is DiNozzo?"

"He is interviewing Maeve's building supervisor and thought it would be rude to interrupt with a phone call."

"Scared that I'm going to kill him through the phone, isn't he?"

One of the reasons Gibbs liked Ziva was her ability to carry on an entirely different conversation with her tone than the one she was having with her words, without giving any indication it was going on to the outside listener. So while Ziva's voice said, "It is, I believe, a legitimate concern when defying your orders." What she meant was, _Why are you being so paranoid about this? _

"Which only DiNozzo would consider an option. The rest of you have learned to listen to me when I tell you to do something." Translation: _Not being paranoid, just doing my job._

"Tony was doing what needed to be done. He was doing his job." _Bullshit_.

"DiNozzo's job is what I say it is, David. Sitrep." _Bite me. Sitrep_.

"There are no security cameras, and none of the neighbors we've interviewed thus far have seen anything, Tony is speaking with the building's super to get a history of any recent break ins. Though judging by the lack of physical evidence in the apartment, including any signs of forced entry, it looks like they had a key."

"Is DiNozzo-"

"Yes Gibbs, he's figuring out who had access to the Super's spare keys. And the super's alibi was confirmed for last night." _We're not stupid, Gibbs. _

"Just because he wasn't there doesn't mean he didn't turn over the key." _Exactly what he said aloud._ (Gibbs was never one to enjoy double meaning).

"We will inform him not to leave town so we can contact him, but neither Tony nor I think he is involved." _We're both quite good at this Gibbs, so what is it that has you so nervous this time?_

"Get back soon, I have a senior agent to beat." _Leave it alone, David_.

But Gibbs had already given himself away. He should've hung up as soon as Ziva finished her sit rep, not stayed on the line to tell them to hurry home. Which was the point of that message, not the impending doom on DiNozzo, but that Gibbs wanted them back at the yard.

"Boss, what's going on?"

"If DiNozzo hasn't told you,-"

"He told us that he helped put Mike Macaluso in prison. But, if the mob held a grudge against Tony for that, they would've come after him before now." Silence from Gibbs. "Unless, do you suspect the Lieutenant's abduction was merely a ploy to get to Tony? But there must be a simpler way to get to him. This seems like far too complicated a plan, Gibbs."

"I don't know what's going on here Ziva, I just know that Giovanni Macaluso likes his plans with a lot of moving parts. And there are too many recurring players here for anyone to call this a coincidence." With that Gibbs snapped shut the phone, but Ziva still heard the unspoken admonition.

_Look after him, Ziver._ And she would.

* * *

Two hours later they were still canvassing the building. The exceptionally large and foul-smelling Super gave them a list of the building's tenants, and despite getting distracted by making 'Mr. Treiger' jokes, Tony seemed determined to speak with every occupant of the building.

Most everyone they had interrupted in the middle of dinner or just as they were stepping out for the evening. But despite the irritation, most people seemed more than willing to answer questions when they found out it was to find an abducted marine. For those that still weren't compliant, a flirty smile from Tony or Ziva brought them around as well. (Never let it be said that being pretty doesn't have its benefits.)

There was a boy who lived down the hall from Maeve that Tony thought was a little _too_ interested in what had happened. However, it was in a Dudley Do Right sort of way, and Tony chalked the slightly hinky feeling up to his inner cynic. The kid, named Max Young, was tall and blonde, with blue eyes so light Tony though in full sun they would look like cloud covered sky. He was 25, a human rights attorney, and by far the most helpful person in the building.

"If I may ask, Agent Dinozzo, why are you asking about whether I saw anything suspicious last night?"

"One of your neighbors was abducted."

"Abducted? I didn't see anything strange last night, but I didn't make it home until 11:00. When do you think the abduction happened?"

"About 10:00." Max seemed genuinely concerned, but Tony could see the wheels spinning. Tony couldn't tell if he was piecing together his alibi, or-

"Here's my boss' card, Agent. I spent most of last night roaming between my office and our firm's library, but I checked in with him before I left. Now, if it's not too presumptuous of me, is Maeve alright?"

Ziva quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Why do you ask?"

"You're NCIS, other than Eli the only other tenant with Navy ties is an ex-marine who lives downstairs. But no one would notice he was missing until rent came due."

"Are you friends with Miss Ryan and her boyfriend?" Tony continued.

"With Mae, most definitely. But I'm afraid I haven't had the chance to get to know Eli very well. Is she alright?"

"A little shaken and missing her boyfriend, but other than that she's doing fine. I hate to ask this, Mr**. **Young, but what sort of friendship did you and Ms. Ryan have?" Max blanched at the question, but drew a deep breath, knowing these agents were just doing their job.

"One that mainly involves food and someone to look after her. Mae needed a big brother, and my boyfriend and I have tried to be that for her." Ziva didn't miss the ripple of pain in Tony's eyes when Max called himself her brother, and once again she had to stifle the urge to just tie Tony to a chair until her told her what was going on. Tony didn't walk away from his friends, and he obviously cared about the girl enough to think of her as family. Whatever made him walk away had to be huge, and enough to still make Gibbs twitchy.

Ziva took the burden of response away from Tony and said, "Other than being young and living alone, have there been any incidents that triggered your concern?"

"No, ma'am. None at all."

"I'm sure Ms. Ryan is grateful for your friendship, Mr. Young. Thank you for your help, and should you think of anything else, please call and let us know." Ziva handed him her card, and led the way to the elevator. There were a few tenants they hadn't managed to speak to yet, but all those on Maeve's floor, and the apartments just above and below her had been successfully contacted and had nothing to report. The more evidence they didn't collect where evidence should be, the more this abduction looked professional.

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Because time and space bent themselves so I could get my assignment done on time, and because my niece decided today that I should enter the pantheon of four people that she likes, and because several of you have said nice things about my tomato plants - I post a day early. And should the universe continue to spoil me, I might post tomorrow as well. Thanks for reading!

* * *

"I've got on them on the security camera heading up to update Jenny. Which means we've got about ten minutes." Ziva, McGee, and Abby were holed up in her lab, trying to share information before Gibbs and Tony came down to see if Abby had any hits on the prints Ziva had brought from the scene. (Considering there were probably only two sets, and those belonged to Eli and Maeve, she should be able to tell Gibbs something by the time he turned up. And even if she shouldn't, her babies would bend time and space to get Gibbs an answer when he wanted it.)

"I tried to ask Tony about it on the car ride over, but he made every question about the song on the radio."

"Of course he did, Ziva. You know Tony. You can't ask, you have to sidle up sneaky-like and come at it from the side. Flat out asking him things just gets you shot down. Now, let me pull up what we've got on them so far." Ziva chose to ignore Abby's statement of the obvious about Tony's secretive nature. Abby thought she knew Gibbs and Tony better than anyone, so it grated on her that they weren't confiding this time.

All of them reacted poorly when a team member started keeping secrets, and extra certainty was Abby's way. McGee had once explained to Ziva Abby's ability to discover secrets as proof of Newton's Third Law of Motion. Her action of being open enough to tell everyone the absolute truth about herself was caused the equal reaction of complete honesty from everyone else. Conversely, Ziva would probably hit someone before the end of the investigation, and McGee would spew more techno-babble than English to cope.

Abby pulled up a timeline on her plasma and began pacing while she handled the sitrep. She'd been texting Ziva and chatting with McGee about this all afternoon, her curiosity blown completely out of control at the chance to actually figure out what got Tony hired. "So, we know that seven years ago Bossman went to Baltimore and came back with Tony. We know that it had to do with the Macaluso mob family. We also know that whatever went down, Tony is way fond of Macaluso's daughter, and knows an unhealthy amount about their family history. We also know that Fornell and the Bureau's organized crime unit were involved. And whatever happened, Gibbs and Tony don't wanna talk about it."

Abby stopped her pacing in front of the plasma while the team soaked in the info. McGee was the one who said what all of them were thinking. "So basically, we know nothing."

"Pretty much."

"No, Abigail. You most certainly know nothing." Ducky had arrived at lab door unseen by the rest of the team and listened to their recitation of the facts so far. They jumped at his comment and at least had the good grace to look abashed at getting caught gossiping.

Of course, Abby and her inquisitiveness were the first ones to get over the shame. "You can't honestly say you're not curious, Ducky!"

"Yes, my dear, I can. Now, I came to tell Jethro that I gave Maeve a mild sedative and she's sleeping on the couch in my office. If you would be so kind as to tell him that when he comes to check on your progress."

Ducky turned to walk away, but Ziva stepped in his path. "Ducky, you are the only person on the planet _more_ curious than Tony."

"My curiosity does not negate my desire to respect their privacy."

While McGee and Ziva were distracted by the guilt of Ducky's inherent reprimand, Abby bounded past that to the truth. "Duckman! You know what happened!"

"Yes Abigail, I do. And if they want you to know the story, they will tell you. It is not my place to divulge another's secrets."

"Secrets, Ducky? Why would they feel the need for it be _secret_?" As Ziva asked the question she stepped into Ducky's space, driving him away from the door and towards Abby's desk where they could pin him. "We are a team, Ducky. Teams don't have secrets from one another. Especially a secret that seems to have Gibbs so concerned. We will better be able to watch out for Tony if we know what's going on."

Abby caught a flash of movement at the door just in time to tap the escape key and get rid of the fact list she had up on her plasma before Gibbs strode in and demanded, "Whatcha got Abs?"

* * *

While the rest of the team conspired to huddle in the basement, Tony barely made it off the elevator before Gibbs was halfway out of the bullpen, motioning for Tony to tag along. Tony knew he was definitely in trouble in that point. It wasn't often that Gibbs went so far as to not even shout 'With me' at Tony. Ziva flinched on Tony's behalf and shot him a 'sorry that you're about to wish you were dead' look as Tony hustled to catch Gibbs on the stairs.

Tony briefed both Gibbs and Jenny, carefully avoiding any expression that would give away how nervous he was that Gibbs wouldn't even look his direction. He was used to Gibbs' temper, he knew what to do with it. He knew how to deflect, draw fire, calm, stoke, and call him on it when the situation demanded it.

But Gibbs wasn't radiating rage. He was just concerned. And no matter how many times Gibbs pulled the concerned card, Tony still never knew quite what to do with it.

"The Bureau's Director informed me that he's looking into why those files are blocked from interagency access, and he'll make them available as soon as possible."

"Of course he will Jen. By that point we'll have found Lieutenant Snyder and Abby will have sent them a gift basket to say 'thanks for playing, sorry you lost'. Jen grinned slightly at Gibbs' surety that whatever the FBI had tucked away in those files, NCIS would have it soon.

They were both dismissed and Gibbs headed for the elevator down to Abby's lab with Tony still in tow. Tony didn't like the silent treatment, in fact, it was his own personal version of hell. And just because Gibbs didn't talk much didn't mean he didn't communicate. But all the little ticks and expressions that usually carried the weight of speech for him were now silenced as well.

Pissed or not, Tony knew there would be no talking Gibbs down, so his only path was to keep doing his job. "Boss, I know you don't really wanna hear this, but I should probably go talk to the organized crime boys at Baltimore PD. McGee and Abby will crack the system and find out everything the FBI knows, but Baltimore will know all the details we need that the FBI isn't paying attention to."

Gibbs just kept striding to the elevator, pointedly ignoring Tony. "We've gotta talk to them Boss, you _know_ that. And we can't send you, because I'm pretty sure they have a Wanted poster of you up in their squad room. Can't send Ziva because you know they're not big fans of women in that department, which will just end in Ziva killing one of them and us with no information. They'll talk to me, I've got friends there still. And I'll even pack along Tim for backup."

Tony was met with more silence. Silence for the whole elevator ride down to Abby's basement. Tony fidgeted more the longer Gibbs didn't even bother to respond or shut the elevator down for the time to tell him in detail that it was a stupid plan. They made it down the hall to the lab before Gibbs finally turned on his heel, and Tony barely stopped in time before bashing into him. "You meet with your friend and no one else. You do it on neutral ground with plenty of witness, and you don't go anywhere without McGee."

"Gotcha, Boss."

Gibbs burst into the lab, asking, "Whatcha got, Abs?" But he was met with everyone pretending like they hadn't just been caught mid-conversation comparing notes about the Baltimore back story, and trying to manipulate Ducky into telling them something. Abby had been on vacation for Gibbs' case and recruitment of DiNozzo, which meant she was operating with the same scraps as the rest of the team. Ducky, however, had been there for the entirety, but he knew far better than to give up the truth of it.

"I, uh ... we've got, um ..." Gibbs raised an eyebrow and continued to glare while Abby searched for a legitimate excuse.

"What she means to say, Jethro, is that instead of working they've been attempting to ply me with guilt to find out your connection to Macaluso."

"It's not our fault, Gibbs! We need real answers! Not just stuff Ducky hints at because he knows you both_ way_ too well and psychoanalyzes you guys for papers, or shreds of story we piece together from stuff you let slip to try and get us to stop asking. We need the fully-fledged, legit, story."

"I'm surprised you haven't just hacked in and read the file, Abs."

Abby blushed and looked away while all color drained from McGee's face. "Abby..." She could never figure out how he could demand and disapprove so thoroughly with just one proper noun.

"We tried, but anything about Macaluso and you guys is only in hard copy! Not even hard copy in the regular filing system, 'cause then we totally could've gotten it. This is like, uber-classified, locked drawer behind the Director's desk, hard copy. All we could get was a number of pages, and this report only has two! Which means you and Tony totally left out the juicy details so it wouldn't do us any good anyway."

"Actually Abs, it would tell you that all jurisdiction and credit for the Macaluso bust went to Baltimore."

"Wait, what? The lab tech here when I was on vacation said the case was huge, I remember it being on the news when I got back, and Morrow let you transfer all of it to Baltimore? Why? What happened?"

Gibbs sighed heavily, but didn't say no. Which was as close to approval as they were gonna get. He knew they wouldn't leave it alone no matter how much he ordered. They'd do better to have their curiosity sated so they could get back to what he paid them for. All attention turned to Tony, because they knew Gibbs would never bet he one to tell the story. Tony gave a sigh of his own, more put upon and infinitely weightier than Gibbs, because this was a story he preferred not to tell. It led to too many questions.

Abby opened her mouth to start asking specific questions, but Tony held up a hand, motioning for her to wait and it would be explained. "I spent the whole of my time in Baltimore undercover as a dirty homicide detective in bed with the Macaluso family. I ended up being one of Giovanni Macaluso's favorite boys." Silence reigned in the room for a moment as three very active imaginations spun out to find the definition of 'favorite boy'.

"What did you have to do for this assignment, Tony?" Ziva's tone was tight and furious. Not with Tony, but with what may have been asked of him by men Gibbs felt the need to take Tony away from.

"Not a thing." He took in her confused expression before continuing. "Really, Ziva. He said he liked me with my ethics intact. We had dinner at least once a week, I looked after Mae, took her to movies, gave her a place to crash when she felt like running away from home. He never asked me to blow and investigation, lose evidence, or intimidate anyone. In fact, he would call me his _piccola bussola_, his little compass."

"But why would he have a good cop just hang around, and not use you?"

"There are two kinds of mafia bosses, Probie, just like there are two kinds of any sort of boss. The ones you love, and the ones you hate."

"Aren't you supposed to _all_ mob bosses, Tony?"

"We're Feds, McGee. Of course _we_ hate them. It's their people who hate or love them. Hate is easier. You kill the old boss and his inner circle, then be ruthless with anyone who moves against you. The best bosses dole out punishment to anyone in their territory who murmurs about their methods with anything other than awe. Very Ralph Fiennesin Schindler's List."

"_Best,_ Tony?"

"Fine McHoly. Most authoritative. The other method of control, which is infinitely harder and riskier, is rule by love. Your territory will never flip on you to the cops or another Don, because they love the one they have. He's the community father, and you don't rat him out."

"There are warlords like this in the Middle East. Mossad spends decades trying to break their false hold on the people, but it's almost impossible."

"Exactly, Ziva. And to Baltimore, that warlord is Giovanni Macaluso."

"So, this Macaluso controlled the Baltimore underworld through _love_?"

"Absoltuely, McGee, he controlled _everything_. Any take, in any job over a certain amount meant Macaluso was due a percent as a service charge for allowing criminals to work in his territory. He controlled all the crime in the city and still sat next to the Chief Justice in Sunday mass."

"How did he get away with it?"

"'Cause you need evidence, Probie. Any time they got anything that pertained to Macaluso, the evidence would vanish, or point to someone Macaluso thought deserved the jail time."

"How?" Tony could see McGee getting more and more agitated, with his inherent sense of justice working overtime to understand how this was allowed.

"The Old Man was a genius. The cops never had evidence because Macaluso was universally loved. At least 10% of his income, both legit and not, went to charity. He covered medical and living expenses for the widows and orphans of former gang members. Other leaders who killed in his territory were hunted down like dogs so it never happened again. Probie, by taking control of the city, Macaluso reduced crime by 7%, and homicides by 12%! When he did dish out the discipline he believed there were far worse things than killing a man. Any evidence he let the cops get ended up pointed to the men he wanted punished. And I won't lie to you McGee, they usually deserved it.

The more Tony spoke, the more Abby wringed her hands at his description. "You're freaking me out a little here, Tony. You sound like you _liked_ this guy."

"Of course I liked him Abs. You don't get to be a Don unless you're a likeable guy, and the Old Man was as charming as they come."

"Tony," McGee interrupted, his righteous school teacher voice eeking out, "He's not the Don from some mobster flick. _You _don't _like_ murderers."

"Tim. The Old Man is a manipulative bastard with no sense of right and wrong, and I did my best to see him spend the rest of his life on death row. But that doesn't mean I didn't like the guy."

McGee's shocked face told that this was just one more aspect of undercover work that he would never quite understand, but Ziva moved on before McGee could dwell. "The Old Man?"

"That's what we called Giovanni."

"**They**,DiNozzo. That's what _they_ called him." It was the first time since the story started that Gibbs had spoken. His silence hadn't been one of boredom or observance, but of tightly imposed self-restraint.

Ducky knew this story, in far greater detail than he knew of most of Jethro's hires, and knew that Jethro's name of choice for Giovanni Macalsuo was 'rat bastard'. He wasn't actually a 'likeable guy', he was an amoral son a bitch who was practically at the top on Jethro's short list of men he'd kill if he ever truly went off the reservation.

"Right Boss." Tony flinched at his slip of tongue, but kept right on talking, trying to draw attention away from the force Gibbs had used for those few words. But the damage was done. Ziva and Tim had noticed and would corner Tony the first chance they had.

The real story was in that slip up.

"So, story. A sailor got stabbed outside a bar in Baltimore, and NCIS sent Gibbs to deal with it. Boss and I worked the case and found out that Mike Macaluso, one of Giovanni's sons, killed the marine. The Boss put him away for it, and he hired me." Tony grinned like a Cheshire cat at that pronouncement, hoping to signal the story was over, but Ziva wasn't deterred.

"But what about your undercover op?"

"Macaluso never really gave me anything to use against him, so the PD didn't mind letting me go, and since I knew nothing, the bad guys had nothing to kill me for."

"Then why did the Bossman give Baltimore the case?"

Tony paused for a moment, obviously mulling how to answer that, but Gibbs was faster. "Joint investigations are subject to my discretion, Abby. I gave Baltimore the credit 'cause I felt like it. Like how now, I feel like you've gotten your explanation and it's time to go back to work. Abs, get me those files, and when you get that done run the prints from the scene, see if any of them don't belong to Maeve or Eli. McGee, go with DiNozzo to interview the Baltimore organized crime unit and see if they have anything they're not putting in the system. Ziva-

"Go with them."

"No. Ziva-"

"Go with McGee and Tony to Baltimore. On it, Boss."

Gibbs went to correct her again, but then, with her back to the rest of the room so only Gibbs could see, Ziva mouthed, "Please." If Gibbs was worried, she wanted to be where her partner was, no matter what.

"With DiNozzo and McGee." Everyone else exchanged glances about what had just happened, but they only had a moment before Gibbs shouted, "Get a move on!" and they all scrambled back to work.


	7. Chapter 6

Their drive back to Baltimore was blissfully normal. The three of them got into an intense debate about the merits and drawbacks of the Jason Bourne film they watched for team movie night over the weekend. Tim and Tony argued about the choice of villain in comparison to all the other classic spy bad guys, while Ziva got hung up on all the ways any competent agent would've killed Bourne ten minutes into the movie.

As they neared the end of their drive McGee summoned up the will to ask what he'd wanted to ever since they left the office. "So where are we going exactly?"

"_The Thistle_. It's a Baltimore pub, favorite of the local PD, and where we're going to meet up with Jack Sparks. Organized crime detective, and undercover cop extraordinaire."

"He's your contact?"

"Yup. He'll have all the information we need about who might be after Maeve, and he's completely clean. Won't warn anyone we've been asking questions."

McGee nodded his acceptance, but the silence in the car was tense as they all tried to think of something else to say that didn't involve Baltimore. Finally Tony just sighed and said, "One follow-up question a piece and then we're not talking about it anymore."

Ziva lept on the opening before McGee even had a chance to think through what he wanted to ask. "If Giovanni is the mastermind, why isn't he the one in prison?"

"He turned narc for the FBI when Mike went down. I never came up with anything to nail him, but in exchange for getting his son off death row, Gio turned into one of the FBI's best assets."

"How can he still conduct business if everyone knows he is an informant?"

"That's two questions, Ziva. Unless you're speaking for McGee now."

"It's not a second question, it is a subpart of my original question." She raised her eyebrow at Tony, daring him to tell her no. Tony just smirked, sighed, and turned his attention back to the road while he answered.

"He conducts business because the FBI is only turned on to 30% of his dealings. The people he takes down are already on their way down, or are the worst of the bad men. Since he's taken power he's actually cleaned up the crime lord business quite a bit. The FBI keeps him because it's a devil you know sort of thing, while the bad guys keep him because he's too good at his job for them to care. McGee, your turn."

McGee drew a deep breath, knowing that his question was closer to the bone than Tony would like. Neither one of them were going to ask the real question of 'what in the crap happened seven years ago' because Tony would refuse to answer that and keep quiet about any more of their questions. So McGee went lightly, but still wanted a question with some meat to it.

"Why did Gibbs turn everything about the case over to Baltimore? He had every right to just take it from them, no matter how many other murders were involved. Why didn't he?"

Tony fidgeted as he pulled the car into the neighborhood where the bar was, taking a moment to answer the question. "I spent two years on a long term undercover op to gain the trust of Giovanni. Whether he gave me any info or not, he still trusted me enough that his daughter called me big brother. PD didn't want to lose an asset."

Tony gave McGee a moment to make the intuitive jump and put the pieces together himself. "Gibbs gave them everything in exchange for you." Tim said it with certainty rather than the surprise Tony was expecting. Like that was exactly the sort of thing Gibbs should've done and not a waste of credit. The lack of shock in McGee's tone meant more to Tony than he would ever admit. Ziva laid her hand on top of Tony's as he put the car in park, giving him a gentle squeeze, and signaling the end of the conversation.

They went into the pub and Tony gestured the team to a booth in the far corner where three of the four seats were blocked from view by the front entrance, and no one would have cause to casually walk past their table and listen in. Tim and Ziva settled in while Tony ordered them their favorite non-alcoholic drinks (they were still on duty), and an extra large basket of onion rings with special dipping sauce. Tony laid it all out on the table and they chatted about nothing for about five minutes before Tony popped up to give a hug to his newly arrived contact, Jack.

Ziva found that the best way to describe Jack was nondescript. He had dirty blonde hair, just dark enough to be called either blonde or brown, eyes that shifted color depending on the light, and features that toed the line perfectly between hard and soft. She could understand why the man was perfect for undercover work. Even without any acting skills, the man was handsome but not memorable. To give a description of him or recall him properly would be beyond the casual abilities of anyone but the highly trained. Ziva knew why Tony liked him.

"Special Agent Tim McGee, Officer Ziva David, let me introduce Detective Jack Sparks. Jack, these are my partners, Ziva and Tim." Handshakes went all around while Tony stepped over to the bar and got a drink for Jack as well.

Tony slid into the booth's bench and Jack ducked in next to him, muttering, "I see you still have your addiction to these wretched rings."

"If they're so wretched, why are you eating them?"

Jack laughed to himself and replied, "Because you made me eat them for two weeks straight while we were on the Patterson case. And while I hate them, they have now worked their way into my bloodstream and I need them to survive."

Tony laughed for a moment at the shared good memory before saying, "I'd completely forgotten that case. Heh, we almost killed each other at least eight times when we were trapped in that dinky little apartment waiting for him go to the drugs."

"So you were Tony's partner, then?"

"No, but close enough, Ms. David. Our Captain was a big fan of partnering the brilliant young buck who's excellent at undercover, with a dirty and useless detective who only still has his shield because the Macaluso's would be pissed if he got fired. Tony and I did a whole lot of work together while our partners sampled baked goods from all over the city."

Ziva and Tim smiled at the friendship between Tony and his former almost-partner, grateful that he'd had people back then who made him smile. "So, Tonio. Shall we get to what you're really here for so we can get you out of Baltimore before anyone notices you're back?"

Tony paused to take a long draw from his lemonade before turning to Jack. "Maeve Macaluso turned up at NCIS this afternoon. Her boyfriend went missing. We could spend days going through everything the FBI has to figure out if her father has an enemy stupid enough to come near Mae, or we could ask you."

"You're in town to help out the favorite Macaluso kid?" Disbelief and mild panic colored Jack's question.

"Her boyfriend is a marine, his abduction is NCIS jurisdiction."

"Yeah, the rest of the force isn't gonna see it that way."

"Good thing I didn't call any of them then, isn't it?"

Jack just sighed and dropped his head to his hands. "You know, your Agent Gibbs promised me that he'd cure Tony of this self-sacrificing reckless streak of his. I'm beginning to see that Gibbs hasn't lived up to his end of the bargain."

"Don't worry about it Jack. You'll tell me if there's been any chatter about the abduction, and then I'll get out of dodge."

"You shouldn't have come here, Tony!"

"What else were we supposed to do, Jack? You can't come up to DC, or call me on that tapped phone of yours. I had to come to you. That's the only way you don't get accused of talking to the feds and shot in the middle of the night."

"You _are_ a fed, Tony."

"No, I'm Tonio. The family will probably give you a big fat raise for getting me to come back to Baltimore."

"Screw the raise if you get _shot_ for it!"

"Excuse me! Perhaps instead of arguing, you could simply give us the information we came looking for and we can get Tony back to DC." Ziva's voice was calm but demanding, and still promising to Tony that would explain to them later why he was putting himself in harms way.

Jack shot Ziva a smile or respect, seemingly grateful that Gibbs had given Tony a partner worth the title. "I don't think this was the family's doing. Word hasn't reached most of them about the boyfriend's disappearance, and none of them have anything to gain by tampering with her. She's out of the game, and that's where Giovanni wants her. To drag her back in, especially when anyone with half a brain would know she'd go to you, is plain suicide. I'll dig into it though and see if anything turns up."

"Thanks, Jack."

Jack latched his hand onto Tony's forearm in a tight grip, locking him in place before Jack slid out of the booth. "Next time, let me come to you and let _me_ deal with the fallout, alright?"

Tony grinned at him, like Jack was blowing things completely out of proportion, but still said, "Gotcha."

The two men hopped out of the booth, but before Ziva and Tim could stand to join them, Tony's eyes narrowed slightly at whoever had just walked into the bar. The bar dropped to an unnatural level of quiet when they took in the sight of the new man and Tony in the same room. "Anthony DiNozzo." Tony stuck his chin out defiantly at a meaty slab of a detective. To his right stood his weasely looking younger partner, obviously excited to be involved in whatever was about to go down.

"Jack's little baby of a partner told me he was coming to see you, and I must say, I thought the boy had to be confused. Tony DiNozzo knows better than to come back to Baltimore. Tony DiNozzo knows what the good men of the BPD do to dirty cops."

This new detective dripped with a demeaning tone while he spoke to Tony, and lifted his volume to oratorical levels. He wanted, and got, the attention of every bar patron, most of whom were fellow LEOs and a disturbing number of whom had the same glint in their eyes as the beefy detective at the mention of Tony.

Ziva waited until the new detective stepped threateningly forward to seamlessly lift to her feet and step between the man and Tony. "What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?"

The detective smirked at Ziva, foolishly thinking the lean woman would be easy to handle. Still at Tony's side, Jack answered, "You see, Officer David, the _stupid_ on the force think Tony was actually a dirty cop, while those of us with any sense know better."

"So am I to understand that this..." Ziva paused to look the offending detecting up and down, sneering as she said "man" (as though she preferred to say 'worm') "is accusing my partner, a federal agent, of conduct unbecoming. And doing so in a _bar_, without _evidence_?" At each phrase she emphasized her disbelief a little more, and stepped a little further into the other detective's space.

He tried to swell up and intimidate her to back away, but Tony intervened. He placed his hands on Ziva's shoulders in front of him and moved to gently guide her around the offending detective. The detective wasn't about to let them out that easily though. "What's wrong DiNozzo? Don't think your pretty little girl of a partner can protect you?"

Tony squeezed Ziva's shoulder before she had the chance to snap out and drop the detective where he stood. Tony was going to keep his mouth shut, but McGee didn't see the point to that. "She's on loan from Mossad, so she could actually protect him from far worse things than you and not break a sweat."

Tony shot McGee a look filled with both pride and 'shut up', a look McGee definitely remembered from Tony's time as team lead. Tony steered Ziva around the two men in front of them, knowing McGee would follow. The slab of a detective couldn't seem to help himself from snickering at McGee. "A brawd and a babyface. These are you partners now, DiNozzo?"

Tony kept a firm grip on Ziva as they made their way towards the door, not quite keeping her calm, but staying in between her and the target while they wound their way through smug looking cops trying to 'subtlely' block their path. "Oh, what, Tony? You're gonna ignore me now? Suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You always did ignore my advice. Really boy, I should've just put you down when I had the chance."

Out of everyone in the bar Tony would've put money on to lose their cool, it wouldn't have been McGee. Tony had left Tim to follow behind them, assuming that McGee's even temper would hold out against anything. Apparently he assumed wrong.

Suddenly everything clicked in Tim's mind at the lat words of the detective. This was Tony's ex-partner. This was the guy who had left Tony to team up with someone else as he sat around getting fat, and now had the audacity to accuse _Tony_ of being corrupt. Even the gentlest souls have a line where they get pushed to violence, and Tim found his.

McGee whirled around and decked the detective for the insults. Tony tried to turn around in time to haul McGee back before the fight escalated. But that just removed the only restraint on Ziva, who easily dropped two of the LEO bar patrons who had moved forward to deal with McGee. Tony took a cheap shot from the beefy detective's creepy partner, then dropped the guy so fast Gibbs would be proud.

From there, the whole thing just went to hell in a handbasket. Other cops joined in on the ruckus, not willing to stand by while the other cops lost, even if they were in the wrong. There was some blood spilled, a table broken, a few bottles smashed, but as for the _really _important part, the three NCIS agents kicked ass.

Which kept them smiling as they got dragged into lockup for the night.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I know, it's on the short side, but it was either one shorter chapter and one regular chapter, or one _really long_ chapter with conflicting tones. So, I split it into two. Don't worry, I won't make you wait until Monday for the next chapter, but this is all you get for now. It's a crazy busy couple of days, and between work and school I feel like the sky has fallen in, but you guys and your reviews are AWESOME! Thanks for those of you who take the trouble to review, it means the world to me to know I'mnot just talking to myself in this void called the internet. THANKS!

* * *

The team figured they'd humiliated BPD enough in the last hour, and they didn't feel very much like starting an interagency war by running (even though they could've escaped, with Tony quoting _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_ the whole way out of town). So, they let themselves get hauled to the station for assault. By the time they'd been booked it was getting on midnight, and their only choice was to play several rounds of rock-paper-scissors to figure out which one of them had to call Gibbs and tell him they were at the local precinct until morning.

McGee lost all three rounds of the game (as he always did), but chickened out mid-ring and Tony had to snatch the phone from him as Gibbs started yelling at the unresponsive phone. Tony glared at McGee for a moment (but couldn't really blame him), before saying with as much nonchalance as he could muster, "Hey, Boss. It's Tony."

"DiNozzo! Where in the hell are you?"

"We're still in Baltimore." Gibbs didn't reply, but Tony could feel the glare coming full force through the phone line. "We may have gotten in a little bar fight, Boss. And we _may _be in the local lockup for the night."

Tony could never quite figure out how Gibbs managed to make the snapping of his cell sound more forceful than the slamming down of a receiver, but he did. The snapping meant Gibbs was on his way to Baltimore, where McGee and Ziva would get the beating of their lives, and Tony would be duct taped to his desk for the foreseeable future.

The team was settled in to the same holding cell for the night, not separating them was a courtesy from the rookie looking after them since they were all LEOs themselves, but Tony almost wished they'd been spread out. He knew the questions that were coming, and there was no real way to avoid them now. He was just grateful for the room to pace across the length of the cell, he'd need it before Tim and Ziva were through.

Tony leaned back against the bars while McGee and Ziva settled next to one another on the bench on the far side of their cell. The three of them sat in full silence for nearly five minutes, but when McGee's nervous fidgeting got to be too much, Tony took pity on him and spoke first. "Gotta know what you're looking for if you expect me to talk."

"We would like the whole story."

"See, that's not very specific, Zee-va. I've got lots of stories. There was this one time,-"

"Tony!"

"Yes, Probie?" He was baiting them, and being as annoying as he could get away with. He knew it was useless, he'd cave and tell them eventually, but he wanted to put that off as long as possible.

"Why is Maeve so scared of Gibbs?"

"Who _isn't _scared of Gibbs?"

"**Tony**."

He cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair before answering. "'Cause the last time she saw Gibbs he had a gun to her father's head and said that if anyone at all tied to the Macalusos came near me again, Gio would answer for it." Blatant, bold honesty. Tony could do that. It would just be a matter of what truths he told.

"When was that?" Tony's gaze shifted from McGee to a spot on the concrete wall between his friends. He wasn't to the point of dropping his eyes altogether, but he was too close for comfort.

"About three months before Kate came in."

"… But the Macaluso op was when you were with Baltimore. Almost two years before." Damn. McGee was getting good at this. They'd trained him too well. The Macaluso op Tony could talk about with decent explanations, it was what went down two years after that he didn't want them to know.

"Yup."

"Why did Gibbs wait two years to put a gun to Macaluso's head?" Tony snorted. Leave it to Ziva to think Gibbs wasn't hasty _enough_ in threatening homicide.

"Didn't need to before. But we had another run-in with Macaluso two years later, and Gibbs didn't take it well."

"What run-in?"

"A run-in, Probie! Let it go!"

'Screw trying to look calm,' Tony thought, and started pacing the width of the cell, keeping himself close to the bars while Ziva and McGee still sat opposite him.

Ziva made her tone gentle at Tony's outburst, and Tony wondered why in the world they put her as good cop and McGee as bad in this interrogation. "Abby texted us about Macaluso's FBI files, Tony. NCIS never dealt with him beyond that original case."

"Nope."

"_Tony_." Damn. McGee was all gentle earnestness too. This wasn't an interrogation. These were his friends. With soon to be lots of emphasis on the past tense. Tony stopped the pacing and braced his hands against the bars, not wanting to see their faces as he explained.

"It wasn't an NCIS thing, Tim. It was _me_ thing. I was a stupid, weak, _easy_ target, and Macaluso picked me off. Gibbs had to swoop in and save me."

"Gibbs...?" Tony looked up at the matted reflection of his teammates in the window across from his cell and answered the question Ziva couldn't verbalize.

"You never wondered why I rebel against every authority figure we come across, but for Gibbs I'm a loyal St. Bernard? Why I've never taken a promotion, or a job offer, or got pissed Gibbs abandoned us, or held a grudge that he came back, or decked him for being a bastard? Why I enable his coffee addiction, and his temper, and his damn recklessness with his own life? Why I've been here for _seven years_, making him my longest relationship and me his second longest?"

The blurry glass was enough for Tony to read the surprise in their bodies. They'd both asked the question a long time ago, but never really wondered. Tony just _belonged_ with Gibbs. "I owe him _everything_. And I'll be with him, whatever he does, until he tells me to get the hell out. Even then, I'll come back when he asks.

"Macaluso, he, ... and then Gibbs," but the explanation wouldn't come out, not the way he wanted it to, so Tony pressed past those details. "The Boss saved my job, my life, and hell, my soul. I. owe. him. _everything_."

"Tony, what happened?" Ziva was firm this time. Still understanding, but demanding the story. Tony could feel it. They had dozens of possible scenarios flitting around their overactive imaginations, each one worse than the last. They could see Tony kidnapped and Gibbs busting down the door. Or Tony blackmailed and Gibbs making it better. Goodness, Probie probably even had a vision of Tony dying and Gibbs going down to Tartarus to haul his soul back 'cause Gibbs hadn't given him permission to die.

The truth was so much simpler and infinitely worse then they could imagine. Tony wasn't the kid who made that damn mistake anymore, he was a _man_, and a far better one then Tony would've thought he had any right to be. (He owed _that _to Gibbs too.)

And now the man was being called on to answer for the kid's crimes.

Tony kept his head down and arms braced against the bars. Tim came forward and laid a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder and Tony couldn't take it anymore. He shouted to the guard, straightening up and smoothing out the suit and his layer of fake calm. Ziva and Tim didn't stop him, probably thinking they'd pushed too far.

"Tony..." McGee was hesitant, still standing at Tony's shoulder, but Tony motioned his hand to stop any apology. He couldn't turn and look at the two of them when he spoke, knowing full well that his mistake would be almost impossible for their loyal personalities to grasp.

Tony waited until the moment he could hear the guard about to turn the corner, the instant when Tim and Ziva wouldn't have any time to respond to what he said. He answered them quietly, but with none of heart-breaking remorse he wanted to convey. Apologies wouldn't be enough for his dalliance. "I went native. And Gibbs brought me back."

The guard appeared and Tony asked to be moved to a different cell so they'd all have room to sleep. Tony stepped out of the cell and into a world where his team finally knew _exactly_ the sort of man he used to be, and deep down, the man he feared he still was.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** As a note to those of you who asked about the meaning of 'going native', I apologize for throwing down the term and forgetting that not everyone roomed with an Anthropology major. 'Going native' is usually used in reference to anthropologists who submerge themselves in a culture to study, but are still supposed to keep their distance/keep from integrating, but join the culture anyway and lose the outsider perspective they're supposed to be maintaining. (_A la_ Kurtz in _Heart of Darkness_.) If you want to know what that means in reference to Tony, keep reading, we're almost there.

Thanks for all the reviews and all the readers! You guys are completely awesome!

* * *

Jack had left instructions with the rookie cop guarding the NCIS agents that the moment Gibbs arrived he was to be shown directly to them. No fuss about paperwork, no calling his supervisor, and definitely no waiting until morning. Jack warned the rookie that he would know Gibbs when he saw the man who looked like he would snap the rookie like a twig and not lose a wink of sleep over it later.

When Gibbs slammed open the door to the precinct, the rookie had a brief moment to admit to himself that he'd never heard a more accurate description.

Gibbs practically threw his ID down on the counter in front of the rookie and demanded, "Take me to Special Agents DiNozzo, McGee, and David. **Now**." The rookie did exactly what Gibbs demanded, and didn't pretend for even a second that he was doing it because Jack had left instructions. It was completely for Gibbs.

The rookie led Gibbs down the halls and through the various doors to where his agents were housed for the night at almost a jog. Eventually he unlocked the final door and turned to tell Gibbs which cells, only to find himself backed into a corner by an irate ex-marine. "Keys."

"Huh?"

"My agents aren't staying here. Give me the keys to their cells."

"I, uh …" The rookie didn't actually think Gibbs could stand any closer to him, but he did. In fact, at this moment the rookie wished he could sink right into the wall behind him and run far, far away from Gibbs. And with a sputtered, "I'll go get them," that's exactly what he did.

Gibbs found his agents all on his own, and things were pretty much exactly as he expected them to be. Ziva was pacing like some wild thing from the zoo unaccustomed to life in a cage, while McGee was curled up on the only bench in the room, trying to ignore her. Gibbs quietly took them in for a moment, seeing McGee's bruised knuckles, and the restlessness to Ziva's fingers that meant she wished for a punching bag. He paused just long enough to be grateful there was no real damage done to them, then set about inflicting it himself.

"Where in the hell is DiNozzo!" McGee flailed so wildly at Gibbs' shout that he fell off the bench, and though Ziva only jumped, it was no less satisfying.

"He moved to a holding cell down the hall." Ziva answered.

"And why did you let them put Tony in a cell alone?"

"He asked to be moved, Boss." McGee sounded heartbroken and more than a little confused.

Gibbs waited a moment for them to explain, but neither one took the initiative, both apparently still reeling from whatever had made Tony want to be moved. "What the hell happened?"

"Uh, Boss ... well," Ziva took over for McGee when he couldn't quite bring himself to answer.

"He told us what happened last time you dealt with Macaluso."

'Obviously not,' Gibbs thought. Because if they knew the _whole story_, even the slightly self-loathing version Tony told, they would've sat on him rather than let him walk out the door. "How _much_ did he tell you?"

"Only that he went native. But Gibbs, that doesn't sound like-" Ziva's question was cut off by Gibbs storming down the hall to confront his senior field agent. Leave it to Tony to focus on _that_ part of the story rather than the explanation for his behavior. Five years of Gibbs trying to make Tony not hate a piece of himself for what happened, and some days Gibbs felt like they hadn't made any progress at all. He was well aware that some of the relapses were his own damn fault and not Tony's (Mexico having done a hell of a lot of damage), but there were some days when, for the life of him, Gibbs couldn't figure out what had set Tony off.

Tony sat on the far corner of the bench in his cell, leaning over with his head in his hands, gripping his hair. Gibbs' heart seized for a beat, wishing for the tenth time today that he'd just blown Macaluso's head off when he had the chance. No parent on the jury would blame him.

"Tell Tonio to shut the hell up." Unlike his junior counterparts, Tony didn't flinch at Gibbs' arrival. And Gibbs knew it wasn't just because Tony had heard him coming down the hall.

Tony looked up and shot Gibbs a self-loathing smirk before replying, "Can't, Boss. I keep trying but he won't-"

"You're **not** trying, Tony! You're letting him eat at you!"

Tony was on his feet, his irritation lifting him out of his chair, "He's **me** Gibbs! I know we both like to pretend I didn't screw up, but I did! All those mistakes you like to chalk up to a different personality were _my _mistakes!"

"You made 'em, Tony. And then you made 'em right. Now pull your head out of your ass and move on!"

Tony snorted back at him and rejoined, "Seriously, Boss? 'Cause I don't think you're allowed to give me crap about not forgiving myself." Gibbs gave an internal sigh of relief. A pissed and defensive Tony Gibbs knew how to deal with; it was wallowing in self-doubt Tony that he couldn't handle. "And lets make a distinction here, Boss. What you've been beating yourself up about for the last fifteen years or so was completely beyond your control. Mine however, was all on _me_."

"So what?"

Tony stared back at Gibbs like that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard and retorted incredulously, "So what? Gibbs it was a huge mistake and pretending like it never happened doesn't make it just go away!"

"We're pretending like it never happened? I was under the impression that we'd dealt with the problem and moved on. I thought the fact that we've stuck together, and we trust each other, was because we faced the problem and learned from it." Gibbs was full of sarcasm, but he didn't want it to be.

What he wanted was to sit on his couch, hand Tony a beer, and have him talk it all out. Gibbs wasn't a fan of words, but Tony was, and Gibbs was a fan of giving Tony someone he knew would always listen. They were rare moments when Tony would actually sit down and speak about whatever was actually bothering him, rather than fill the void with noise to distract himself.

Usually though, he had to be drained to the point where he couldn't find the will to fight Gibbs anymore. Before Gibbs Tony would exhaust himself with work or sex, driving himself until he could take his worries and stuff them in a box where they could be ignored once more. It took a hell of a lot of time to get Tony to the point where eventually he wouldn't try and jam them back into the box, but let them flow into Gibbs, who would make them seem so much smaller then before. Like Tony didn't need to be giving them space in his head all these years, because they weren't the foes he thought they were.

Gibbs had taken him to the mat the whole first year, giving Tony a chance to let the adrenaline pump and bleed the doubt out of him through physical exhaustion. From there they moved to running, longer stretches than Gibbs' knees enjoyed, but enough for Tony, and less bruises than their other method. Then Mexico came, and Gibbs regretted that it took a couple months afterwards for Tony to trust him enough to come to him with problems, and even then they devolved back to beating the tar out of one another in the ring. It didn't take as long to get back to running as it had before though, because they both wanted to be what they used to be. From there came a night in Gibbs' living room every once in a while, getting Tony just drunk enough to be loose with his memories. Then the nights without physicality came more often, and the amount of alcohol went down. So now, they were to the point where Tony usually could just sit down and talk to Gibbs, beer only necessary for taste and not as a speech lubricant.

This grief though, it was far too big for talking, too old and cutting. So Gibbs gave Tony the fight he was looking for to shove those bits and pieces of battered self-esteem back into their box until Gibbs could deal with it properly.

Gibbs let Tony pace across the cell for a moment, knowing that Tony was struggling to stifle the desire to haul off and lay his fists into something until he felt like himself again. Gibbs mentally ran through what gym clothes he had at the office, so the two of them could go straight to the NCIS gym and work this pain back to a manageable level. Gibbs would make sure the whole team would ignore this chunk of Tony's history until after the latest Baltimore chapter of their lives was thoroughly closed. Then there would bourbon and steak over a long weekend, and Gibbs would try, once again, to get Tony to understand that a man is not defined by his worst moment, but what he does with it.

The rookie that Gibbs sent scattering when he burst into the precinct finally came around the corner with the keys to release the agents. "Where the hell have you been!" The rookie froze in his tracks and for moment Gibbs thought the kid was actually going to break down and cry.

"My-my-my-"

"Your **what**!"

"My supervisor had the keys!" The officer's explanation came out in one frantic exhalation, absolutely terrified that Gibbs was going to kill him if he stuttered one more time.

Gibbs stretched out his hand, and if the rookie had worked for him for more than five minutes, he would've known that meant he was supposed to turn over the keys, but the kid just stared at Gibbs' palm with a blank look that slowly devolved into panic as nothing happened. Finally Gibbs just shouted, "Keys!"

"I- I'm not supposed to give them to anyone."

Had the boy not been standing in his way, or engaging in nearly suicidal behavior, Gibbs would've been proud of the kid's guts. However, given the situation, Gibbs just stepped into the rookie's personal space, glowering down on him until the boy's shaking hands finally turned over the keys.

Gibbs turned back to the lock separating him from Tony, muttering something about 'like you could get the key in the lock with those damn twitchy hands. Don't need the keys, could've just picked the stupid thing.' Gibbs flicked the lock open, leaving Tony to open the door himself and tail after Gibbs to the cage holding the rest of the team. He got the next lock with the same ease, but this time slammed open the metal door and stood in their only path to the exit.

"What the hell happened?"

"Nothing happened, Boss!" McGee was fit to bursting with the truth even as he tried to lie, and Gibbs could see it.

"Nothing happened? So these assault and battery charges are a figment of my imagination?"

McGee stuttered for a moment before Gibbs kept going. "How about this list of damages from the bar? They made up too?" Gibbs yanked a scrap of paper out of his pocked and started listing. "NCIS is getting billed for a broken booth, bar top, table, about $400 in booze,-"

"And a Chinese dragon." The whole team stopped at Ziva's comment, all of them torn between being thrown that Ziva was the one drawing fire, and baffled that she'd do so with a movie reference. McGee was fairly certain the vein in Gibbs' forehead was finally going to pop, but then Ziva pushed further. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "What? It's from _What's Up Doc_. 1972. Barbara Streisand, Ryan O'Neal. One of the greatest screwball comedies ever made."

The three men just kept staring at her, completely baffled, until McGee manned up and decided to trust her enough to join her on the impetuous side of crazy. Mind you, McGee only went so far as to mutter the lead in to Ziva's favorite line from the movie, but it was enough. "Don't you know the meaning of propriety?"

Ziva ran with McGee's set up and launched a completely dead-pan recitation of the lines. "Propriety? Noun. Conformity to established standards of behavior. Or manner, suitability, rightness, or justice. See etiquette."

McGee was blushing, Ziva was pretending that this wasn't completely out of character, and Gibbs was just trying to piece together what in the hell movie they were talking about. Tony's reaction though, that was the one they had been hoping for.

Tony laughed. Not uproariously, but a laugh was a laugh. And it meant Tony was grasping in some tiny way that if Ziva and Tim were trying to protect him and make him laugh all in one breath, then they weren't going to disown him for past mistakes.

Ziva had known the look in Gibbs' eyes when he stormed up to their cell. That glare meant he was intending to function as Tony's punching bag the first moment he could, which would only trigger Ducky trying to force them both talk about it the moment he realized their ribs were covered in bruises. Gibbs had a way to bring them all back from their own edges, something to stabilize them when it got too bad to handle on their own. McGee got someone to believe in him, telling him he was doing well. Ziva got someone to answer to when she went off the rails, and someone to believe in _her_. Tony got someone who cared when he went missing, someone who would never walk away, no matter how hard he pushed. They all knew Gibbs fought with Tony to burn the fear out of him, make him realize that someone willing to put himself up as a punching bag to calm him down wasn't likely to ever walk away.

Gibbs spared a moment to revel in the sound of Tony laughing with them before slipping back to Bossman Mode. "You've all been released on your recognizance. Jenny is going to call me in a minute asking what her defense is supposed to be when she finally gets the Baltimore Police Commissioner on the phone, so what in the hell am I telling her?"

The agents all looked back and forth between one another, trying not to meet Gibbs' glare, until finally Tony broke and rather sheepishly said, "McGee hit a guy. It was justified though. But the rest of the BPD in the bar didn't agree with us."

"Is there a particular reason you thought assault against a police officer was a good life choice, McGee?"

"Tony's ex-partner said he should've put Tony down, Boss! I, just, I couldn't stop myself!"

Gibbs very slowly turned to face Tony and over-enunciated his question, conveying his wrath through his clipped tone. "Sam was at the bar?"

Tony dropped his gaze from Gibbs and shuffled his feet, muttering something that Gibbs took as a yes.

"What the _hell_ was Sam doing there?"

"Jack's got a rookie for a partner. When Sam asked him who Jack had run off to see, the kid told him."

"So Sam ran his mouth, McGee hit him, and the three of you ended up in jail."

McGee misinterpreted the rage in Gibb's tone as directed at Tony, so he tried to explain. "It wasn't Tony's fault, Boss! He tried to get us out of the bar before anything happened, but I lost my temper."

Gibbs didn't even bother looking away from Tony, he just raised his eyebrow and said, "You actually tried to _stop_ them from going after Sam?"

Tony shuffled again and replied, "I didn't want us to end up on the wrong end of a disciplinary board for getting into a bar fight with another agency."

Gibbs just humphed to himself before slapping McGee on the back and declaring, "Good job, Tim." Tony thought McGee's eyes were about to fall right out of his head, but with a nudge from Ziva, the Probie followed along behind Gibbs with the rest of them.

Gibbs decided now was as good a time as any to update them before he sent them all on their way and took advantage of the now stabilized DiNozzo. "Jack called me on the drive here. He's been trying to talk the cops out of pressing charges ever since you got arrested, but he got called off helping by one of the Macaluso lieutenants. Seems someone wouldn't mind you spending at least the night in jail."

"Really? Which lieutenant?"

Gibbs flipped open his notebook and read, "Patrick Macaluso. Jack said he's-"

Tony interrupted, "Mike's oldest son. And the oldest of Gio's grandkids."

"Yeah. Apparently he's followed in his father's and grandfather's footsteps in the psychopath department. Only he doesn't have the finesse for it that they did. Jack says he's reckless, and one screw up away from getting himself cut out of the family business."

"So you're thinking he kidnapped Eli and doesn't like the fact I'm working on the case?"

"Or he just hates you."

"That is always a possibility where Tony is concerned." Ziva snarked while Tony intensely fought the urge to stick out his tongue.

"McGee, David. Take the car back to DC and get a few hours sleep. Be back in by 8:00." All three nodded, with a smattering of 'yes Boss,' and 'on it, Boss' thrown in, and they headed for their car. Gibbs, however, snagged Tony by the back of his jacket and said, "Not you, DiNozzo."

He tried to look innocent and abused, as though he had absolutely nothing to do with whatever Gibbs was about to kill him for. "Boss, it's really not that-"

"What was my one order, DiNozzo?"

"Actually Boss, you've got, like, fifty..." Gibbs smacked Tony on the back of the head, leading him to flinch and reply, "To not get myself shot. But Boss, I didn't-"

"Ass. Car." Gibbs' tone was clipped with barely contained fury, and Tony wisely clamped his jaw shut instead of replying.

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**A/N:** Address to the _What's Up Doc_ scene in question, and the specific scene is at about 2:30. .com/watch?v=23-aQcVou9s&NR=1

Thanks for reading! Happy first day of summer!


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Lauren Alfiler, I curse you. This chapter was all written with all the same dialogue, but with Gibbs and Tony having in the car ride back to DC. Then you had to go and ask to see the fight in the gym, which wasn't going to happen 'cause of the car ride. Apparently my muse loves you more than me, because the whole thing demanded to be re-written with a change of venue. I don't actually curse you, 'cause the scene came out _way_ better, but still. You're a weasel.

And I swear, there will be actual _case_ in the next chapter. You're all beautiful people, and I'm actually really quite thrown that I'm getting reviews at all, particularly in this number. Thank you!

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They'd both been on their phones for most of the drive back to DC. Gibbs spoke with Jenny, and then with Jack, while Tony got a call from Ducky seconds after getting in the car. Ducky dialed on behalf of Maeve, who'd had a nightmare, and Tony spent most of the drive talking her through it. (Well, not so much talking, as listening to her freak out. After the number of women Tony had been through, he knew when he was being asked to fix, and when he was being asked to shut up. This was the latter). By the time they'd both hung up, Gibbs was pulling off the highway back into DC.

A small – but not nearly as small as he would like – part of Tony was incredibly grateful that Maeve had her nightmare. Not because he would ever wish on her the nights of tormented sleep that he'd experienced, but because it meant that Gibbs wasn't trying to talk it all out with him.

Ziva and Tim joking with him and trying to get Gibbs irritated at them instead of at him meant an incredible amount to Tony. Tony knew it was completely ridiculous, but the part of his personality still terrified of abandonment had been sure that they'd never look at him the same way again. (Ducky had more than a few comments to make about Tony's habit of up and leaving before anyone had the chance to send him away again, but Tony really wasn't in the mood to think about Ducky's sometimes less than favorable views on his mental state). The others didn't hate him, and that was what really mattered right now. All Tony wanted was to go home, sleep his emotions off, then slam Patrick Macaluso into a wall until he told them where Eli was. Then the whole team could go back not talking about it. They'd dig it out of him eventually, but only after a hell of a lot of booze, and then Tony wouldn't have to remember telling them the morning after.

However, Gibbs seemed to have other plans.

"Hey Boss... my apartment was down that street we just passed." Gibbs kept driving, no acknowledging that Tony had spoken. "It's cool though, we could turn here. Here. There."

Alright, Gibbs seemed to be under the impression they needed to return to the Navy Yard. No way in hell he'd be dissuaded of that notion, but Tony always liked to put up a fight. "Ducky gave Mae some sedatives so she could get some more sleep, so I wouldn't be doing any good at the office." Nope, still no reaction, and still driving towards the Yard. "Figured I'd go home, get some sleep, and be back early."

For a brief moment Tony wondered if he wasn't actually saying anything out loud, and was so tired he was talking to himself inside his head and didn't realize it. So he kept rambling, just to make sure. "Yup. Bright and early tomorrow. Which is really today. But still, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Which I never understood. I mean, why would you compare a morning person to a squirrel? Is it 'cause they're annoying? Because _that _I get."

Gibbs simply pulled into the NCIS parking lot, letting Tony ramble about squirrels, then nuts, then allergies, and really anything to keep himself from actually _thinking_.

Tony kept rambling as they parked the car, but sighed as he turned to head down the hall to the morgue to crash on the tile floor next to the couch Mae was sleeping on. But Gibbs grabbed the back of his jacket and stopped him before he could get off the elevator on the right floor. "Boss?"

"Grab your gym gear, DiNozzo." Tony stood in stunned silence as they finished the ride to the gym, and was left on the elevator as Gibbs headed down the hall.

"Boss, it's one o'clock in the morning!"

Gibbs didn't even look over his shoulder as he shouted, "Be ready in five!"

XXXXXXX

Tony joined Gibbs at the mats with plenty of time to spare, brow still furrowed at this turn of events. "What's up, Boss?"

He asked, but Tony knew _exactly_ what had Gibbs concerned. If Tony had asked to go back to the Yard for the night so he could look after Maeve, Gibbs would've known he was just fine and done with beating himself up for the time being. But Tony had asked to go to his apartment. That meant he wanted to lock himself in a room where no one could find him and wallow until he got his head on straight and his heart locked back up so that he could talk about himself with the sort of clinical detachment that terrified Gibbs. To go back to pretending that he wasn't bothered by his mistakes or anyone else's, because there wasn't a soul inside him that cared.

Rather than spell out what Tony already knew, Gibbs just raised an eyebrow and replied, "You tell me."

"I'm _fine_, Gibbs."

Gibbs calmly finished wrapping his knuckles in an attempt to prevent any forthcoming damage from being spotted by Ducky's prying eyes, and then moved to the middle of the mats. "Bullshit."

Tony put wrappings on his own knuckles far more aggressively than Gibbs did, knowing that there was no way he was getting out of the gym until Gibbs said so. "Boss, this is a waste of time. I just need some sleep. I swear."

Gibbs snorted as Tony finished wrapping and moved onto the mats. "Don't make promises you can't keep, DiNozzo." From there they moved into the fight. Aggressive, but not violent. Fighting for the sport of it, to drain Tony to the point where those nightmares he had feared were coming on tonight would stay away. Tony was fast and solid, every punch he landed was like getting hit with a baseball bat. Gibbs was better trained, though slower, but still more of his punches found their mark.

They kept up the dance, neither speaking, until Tony started to fight for his breath. "I had a nightmare last night." The sudden shift to speech by Gibbs would've been enough to throw Tony off his guard, even if it hadn't been accompanied by the stark truth Gibbs was sharing.

Tony stumbled a but before muttering, "Wh-what?"

"Last night I had a nightmare. Same one I usually have."

Gibbs didn't break his rhythm in their fight, and Tony struggled to match the calm and conversational tone Gibbs had assumed, despite the odd timing. "Oh, really? What's the nightmare about?"

"You getting shot." Tony stopped all movement at that proclamation, leaving Gibbs plenty of time to pitch him to the ground.

"You have dreams about me _dying_?"

"Nightmares, DiNozzo. There's a difference." He held out a hand and hauled Tony back to his feet, resuming the sparring like nothing odd had happened. Tony was a little slower shifting back into sparring mode, but he pulled it off. That is, for the few minutes before Gibbs started talking again.

"There are times when the dream changes a little, but usually it's the same." Tony did a shuffle step and landed a solid punch to Gibbs' stomach, wanting him to stop it. This wasn't fair. He was draining Tony with the flight, leaving him open and vulnerable, and then bombarding him with words he was too exhausted to keep out.

"Had a few months over the years where it's been different. Times when you drowned," Gibbs blocked with his left, "or a bullet to the forehead," right elbow to the temple, "or when the plague took you," left to the floating ribs. Tony grunted and doubled over at the last blow, the air shoved from his lungs.

He stayed bent, and summoned up the will to cave and give Gibbs exactly what he was asking Tony for so this could stop. In between gasping breaths he said, "So ... what's the ... usual nightmare?"

"You get shot. In the chest. I keep my hands on your ribs, trying to stop the blood, but it just keeps coming." Tony wrenched himself up from his knees, doing his best to not gasp for air as his lungs began refilling. He wanted to get away from whatever in the hell Gibbs was trying to do to him, stumbling towards the door.

But of course, Gibbs followed. "The dream has gotten worse over the years. It started with just me and you, but then Duck and Abs came into it too. I'd still be applying pressure like in the original, but the newer dreams had them standing by your feet, with Ducky hugging Abby, trying to keep her from seeing you bleed out."

Tony slammed through the empty locker room, wishing for the life of him that it wasn't two a.m., and there was a witness whose presence would make Gibbs stop talking. "So your damn subconscious would rather I wasn't looked at by the _doctor_ when I was shot!" Yelling was good. Tony could do yelling. It would take a hell of a lot more yelling than Tony would ever do to get Gibbs to up and leave him alone, but maybe he could yell enough to get him to back off for tonight.

"Nope. You're going to die. Nothing Duck can do about it, so he spares Abby what he can. Knows you'd want it that way." Tony slammed his locker shut, repeating his motion again and again, only this time with his fist into the metal.

Gibbs was unphased. "Gets worse the more family we get. Abby still cries into Ducky's shirt, but now we've got Ziva and McGee there too. Ziver's hands are shaking, and but she's still got a grip on your shoulder so tight that I'm pretty sure you'd bruise if you weren't about to die. There's always some reason we have to leave you, though. I think it's a bomb. But Ziva won't go. None of us will."

Tony leaned against the lockers, forehead between his fists, trying to ignore Gibbs. But at those words he snorted and replied, "Your subconscious doesn't know better than to take Ducky and Abs into a building with a bomb?"

"It's a _nightmare_, DiNozzo. Not supposed to be logical. And don't interrupt. Ziva won't cry, won't admit that you're actually dying, right up until you tell her that you've seen this film before. I have no idea what you're talking about, but she seems to get it. Then the tears come, quiet, like she doesn't want to draw attention to it. She kisses your forehead, whispers something in Hebrew, and then follows your orders."

"First time for everything."

Gibbs ignored the sarcasm and kept talking, calm and detached, like he hadn't woken up sick and shaking from this dream before. "McGee is the one you convince to leave first. You tell Tim how to take care of all of us. You keep it simple and short, 'cause there's too much blood in your lungs for too many words. And then ... then you hand him your badge." Tony lost all semblance of cool at that, he shoved off the lockers and took a swing at Gibbs. The punch was desperate and out of control, enough for Gibbs to spin Tony and trap him in a lock.

It was a dirty secret of NCIS that everyone knew but everyone pretended they didn't, that Tony's badge wasn't his. When Gibbs handed over his team, he did the same with his badge. Tony kept them for his own, even after Gibbs got back. The whole agency knew Tony wouldn't part with it unless it was his dying breath.

Tony tried to wrench himself free of the hold, but to actually get loose would involve doing serious damage to Gibbs, and that wasn't something he was willing to do. "Funeral is nice. We try to keep it small, but you've got too many friends who want to be there. I don't talk to any of them though, just stand by your grave and ignore everybody. But Jack doesn't bring a date this time, so that's progress."

Tony thrashed again and ranted, "Your subconscious doesn't know me very well then, Boss. Don't want a funeral, want to be cremated."

"No ya don't. You did, but not anymore. You wanted to be in the wind 'cause the thought of spending eternity in the DiNozzo family plot terrified you. You just wanted freedom from them." Tony got his elbow free, landing it firmly in Gibbs' stomach, but that only got him re-snared and gripped all the tighter. "Figured you'd forgive me for putting you somewhere we could visit, rather than let you go."

"Visit? You hate New York."

Tony wasn't sure how he did it, but Gibbs got a hand free and smacked Tony on the head, all while keeping him trapped. "Stillwater, DiNozzo. You'll be next to Kelly, and I'll be next to Shannon." At that, Tony stopped breathing and sank to his knees. He caught the tense shift Gibbs used. He wasn't talking about the dream anymore, he was talking about the future. When Tony finally gave up the ghost, Gibbs wanted Tony to be buried with his girls.

Gibbs let him slip from his arms, and come to rest on the floor. "A man should be with the people who love him, Tony. And no matter what the hell you think happened. You're with me." Gibbs squeezed Tony's shoulder briefly, then sat down and leaned against the row of lockers as Tony panted. They'd be there for a while, just until Tony found his equilibrium again.

It took about five minutes of sitting, as Gibbs gratefully listened to Tony's breathing even out, before Tony finally voiced the question that had been pinging about in his mind. "Promise?" Tony wasn't a child by any stretch of the imagination, but he had years of neglect and then being told he was only worth his pretty face and what he could make people believe. A lifetime of having your worth devalued and pretending to be less than you are to try and get people to accept you, that was enough to damage anyone.

Gibbs reached out and squeezed Tony's shoulder, and replied, "Promise."


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** So, I had this marvelous plan where I was going to churn out four chapters over the weekend and post two this morning as my thank you to all you beautiful people who reviewed. (25 reviews for the last chapter, by the way, which has never, EVER, happened to me before.) Then real life intervened, and not only did I only write a chapter and a half, I have yet to have the opportunity to reply to you all. Don't worry, I'll thank you all individually, and there will be another chapter posted before our regularly scheduled one on Thursday, (both 'cause I love you, and this chapter is all case).

Anyway, you're all beautiful people, and you bring me joy despite my newly hectic life, and THANK YOU!

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Ziva and McGee made it to work an hour earlier than Gibbs asked for, both of them unable to sleep properly not knowing why mobsters were gunning for their friend. They had both planned to sneak up to their desks and get some work done, then the moment the opportunity presented itself, dash off to interrogate Ducky. They bumped into one another at the parking garage elevator, both fidgeting slightly as they came up with excuses for being there so early.

McGee went first, with a slightly stuttered, "I'm, r-running a system diagnostic."

Ziva nodded, as though it was completely believable and replied, "I have paperwork." They sat in awkward silence for the whole elevator ride, determined to not look at one another. But then the doors slid open at the bullpen floor to reveal a bouncing Abby.

She looked back and forth between them for a moment, figuring out exactly what they were pretending didn't happen, and exclaimed, "Hey! You guys here to pester Ducky, too?"

They paused for a moment, looked one another up and down, and then with sheepish grins simultaneously said, "Yes."

"No you're not." All three of them jumped as Gibbs and his coffee came around the corner. Judging from the slightly rumbled look that Gibbs only got when he'd been sleeping on an autopsy table, they assumed he'd spent his night here. "The three of you have work to do." He strode past them, not batting an eye, and went straight to the bullpen leaving them thwarted in his wake.

"How does he do that?"

Tim sighed, "After all this time Abby, I think we should just stop asking the question." The two agents parted ways with her, heading for the bullpen.

Gibbs was more than a little irritated, and didn't waste any time for them to get comfortable at their desks, before he started talking. "Patrick Macaluso should be here in half an hour, the FBI is bringing him in."

"The FBI?" Given the fact that Gibbs didn't like the FBI on a good day, and yesterday had most _definitely_ not been a good day, McGee was surprised that Gibbs was trusting them with anything.

"For some reason the Bureau thought it might be 'unhealthy' for Patrick to be in my presence without an FBI chaperone." He paused for Ziva's smirk, which translated to, 'They think he'll be safer after they irritate you?'

"So, Patrick Macaluso is our chief suspect then?"

Gibbs didn't even bother looking at McGee when he replied, "Unless you two have turned up something from all that **work** you did yesterday."

They both took a moment to look appropriately scolded, but Ziva wasn't letting this go without a fight, "But Gibbs..."

"Officer David. What. do. you. have."

She pressed her lips together to keep in her irritation at being excluded, but moved on. She knew that Gibbs appreciated the level of trust it took for her to follow him without explanation, especially where her partner was concerned, but Gibbs knowing exactly how hard this one was her didn't make it any easier. "According to Eli's phone records and bank statements, he's had no contact with anyone in the Macaluso organization. The FBI files confirm this lack of contact. The files also register no contact between Maeve and the rest of the family. Tony's original assessment appears to be correct. No one in their organization has _anything_ to gain by drawing Maeve back in. In fact, they're more likely to be disinherited for taking the family business anywhere near her."

Gibbs turned his attention to the other agent and said, "McGee, what exactly was the Bureau trying to keep from us?"

"...Boss? They've actually sent us more info than we can use. It took them a while, but now they're being completely cooperative."

"And tell me Agent McGee, when have you known the FBI to be 'completely cooperative'?"

"Um, well ... never." McGee did his best to only fidget at Gibbs' glare and not step back.

"They weren't locking us out of their files just to piss me off McGee, there's something in there they're trying to hide. And now that they can't hold back the info, they're trying to bury us in paper instead. Find what they're hiding, McGee!"

McGee snapped to attention and bounced to his computer with an, "On it, Boss!"

Gibbs turned his attention away and demanded, "Ziva, get me everything we have on Patrick Macaluso. I wanna know who I'm dealing with." She nodded as Gibbs blew past them and down to the lab.

Gibbs had decided not to chew out his agents for turning up early just to ferret out details because they managed to get some work done in the process. The same mercy extended to Abby. "Whatcha got for me, Abs?"

He clunked down the Caff-POW on her table, then withdrew it when she replied, "Nothing." She scowled momentarily before continuing. "It's not for lack of trying, Gibbs. The only prints in the apartment belong to Mae and Eli. The security cameras of the building next door caught no suspicious behavior or hinky cars around the time of the abduction. There's no cameras in the building or parking garage for me to examine, Gibbs, there's not even a list of registered vehicles for the building for me to check against! You want me to work miracles, then I need something to work _with._ Though, the complete lack of trace does indicate that these guys are professionals."

Gibbs set the drink down and left the room, clearly getting more and more agitated as information came in. The next stop was autopsy, where Ducky was waiting on Gibbs with a cup of tea. Gibbs had sent the ME home so late the night before it was almost early, but, as Ducky was fond of pointing out, the older he got the less sleep he seemed to need.

Ducky sat reviewing files at the small desk in the main body of autopsy, while Maeve and Tony slept on in his office. Gibbs indulged himself just long enough to peek through the glass of the office door and saw Maeve delicately curled up in the sofa, while Tony sprawled over every spare inch of floor with his jacket balled up for a pillow. Gibbs smiled to himself before joining a patiently waiting (and pointedly ignoring the sentimental moment) Ducky.

He turned his gaze up from the papers when Gibbs began, "Sleep well, Duck?"

"It was short, but I've had far worse nights Jethro, as you are well aware."

"Whatcha got, Duck?"

"Ah, already moving past the pleasantries I see. Well, Maeve's blood test turned up no medications, as I expected due to the time delay between incident and sample. I also contacted one of my counterparts at the FBI, who informed me that Maeve Macaluso was not seen by any of their medical personnel, nor can he find any record of her being treated at a local hospital or doctor's office. Despite the lack of due diligence regarding her care by our friends at the Bureau, Maeve seems to have escaped the altercation with no more than a goose egg and a rather spectacular black eye."

"Anything you can tell me about the shot they used?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. I cannot identify the drug, nor was there anything remarkable about its administration. It merely needed to be injected in a large muscle group, meaning the attackers needed no medical knowledge beyond the ability to insert a needle."

The furrow between Gibbs' eyebrows grew the more Ducky explained, leading him to ask, "What are you thinking, Jethro? That this was a professional abduction?"

"I think professionals would've waited until Maeve was out of the house."

Gibbs headed for the doors, leaving Ducky to his paperwork and his quiet musings at what was truly bothering Gibbs. "Professionals would come when someone wanted Maeve. Sloppy professionals mean they wanted Anthony involved."

XXXXXXX

Gibbs sat peaceably at his desk for the next twenty minutes, waiting for Patrick to arrive. If McGee had been as naïve as he was on his first day, he would've thought Gibbs was calm. But Gibbs had tells, and the longer McGee stayed, the more he noticed them. They were always more pronounced when Gibbs was sitting at his desk, as though it was one of the few places he felt secure enough to show all his cards and wouldn't be doing any damage by letting emotion out.

Gibbs never fidgeted, he was too well trained to indulge in useless burning of energy. No, when Gibbs was pissed he did everything exactly the same as he always did, except for his coffee. Rather than his typical mainlining, Gibbs' intake went down, _way _down. He didn't stop drinking altogether, but coffee ceased to be his only source of hydration. When a water bottle appeared on the corner of Gibbs' desk that was usually reserved for his coffee, that's when you knew we'd ventured into 'danger, danger Will Robinson' territory. (And yes, Tony had adopted a robot voice the first time he explained the significance of the water bottle to Tim).

So now that Gibbs was downing a water bottle just minutes before he interrogated a mobster who appeared to be gunning for his agent, McGee knew it was going to be a long day. Gibbs was so mad he felt the need to drink water, and McGee didn't quite grasp why, and any day he couldn't even remotely grasp Gibbs' motivation was sure to be a doozy.

Sure, McGee understood that Gibbs didn't like people going after his agents, especially people Gibbs seemed to think he'd already warned off quite clearly. But this was different. The bad guy was in custody and on his way here, Gibbs should be thrilled. And by 'thrilled,' McGee meant 'not grumpy,' because that's usually the best you got with Gibbs.

But instead, Gibbs seemed to be slipping into full black ops, pissed off anti-hero mode. That could only mean one thing: he didn't think Patrick Macaluso had anything to do with it.

Gibbs' phone buzzed, and after reading the message and sharply flicking it closed, he asked, "Fornell's almost here. Whatcha got for me, Ziva?"

"Patrick Macaluso is the only son of Mike Macaluso. He graduated with an MBA and an unremarkable record from Harvard. From what I can tell, none of his grades were bought. He's been brought in for questioning on mob-related business several times, but rarely has to all in for backup. According to Jack, Patrick is smart and driven, but not enough. He says he'll make an excellent under-boss someday, provided Gio can find him a talented and loyal second, but he's not remarkable enough on his own to take charge of anything."

Gibbs just grunted, because at that moment Fornell stepped off the elevator with Patrick. Then, well … Ziva hid it better, but McGee couldn't help but stare so hard his eyes almost bugged out of his head. Patrick was tall, with broad shoulders a square jaw, and looked so dangerously close to Tony that for a moment, McGee stopped breathing.

The similarities ended at the physical though, and McGee could tell that by the next breath. Tony was playful, with kind eyes, and the maddening desire to protect everyone. But Patrick, he was bastard, every inch of him radiated it. (And not bastard in the slightly affectionate way they used for Gibbs, but in the legitimate sense).

McGee's first clue was the gleam in Fornell's eye that said he would rather be beating Patrick with a crow bar than ensuring his safety. His suit was designer, his hair gelled to perfection, and his watch cost more than the whole team made in a month. Every inch of him was slick, well-made, and completely fake. McGee actually had the urge to give the guy a noogie, just to see if any past of him could be mussed.

Fornell stopped at the edge of the bullpen and just stood, waiting. Gibbs took a deep swallow of his coffee, and then joined Fornell without a word, leading them both to a conference room. Gibbs didn't even pause long enough to match stares with Patrick, something that made the man's sneer blossom all the more.

As Gibbs led the men away, an IM from Abby popped up simultaneously on McGee's and Ziva's screens, telling them she had the video feed from the conference room playing in her lab in case anyone felt like bringing down popcorn. The two agents started at one another across the bullpen, debating the merits of watching Gibbs spar with a Macaluso against not getting caught away from their desks.

That debate took a whole of two seconds before they both jumped from their desks and took off for the lab at a dead run.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N:** This is how much I love you. I post today, and will post again at our regularly scheduled time tomorrow. And I do so, despite the fact that my traffic meter is down, so according to ff, no one has even read the last chapter. I know this to be false because of the lovely people who send reviews, and for them, the few, the proud, the review leavers, I post extra this week. Thanks for making me feel like someone's out there listening, and I hope you enjoy!

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Usually when Gibbs settled in for a conversation in the conference room he acted like the sort of host his mother would've been proud of. He got a drink for the party there to answer questions, or pulled out their chair, or at the very least gestured that they should make themselves comfortable. Today however, Gibbs behaved like he was walking into interrogation. He sat himself down at the head of the table, leaving Fornell to lean against the door, (a subtle psychological reminder than they weren't done talking until Gibbs said so), and Patrick to sit where he felt like.

Patrick snorted at the blatant display of disrespect from Gibbs and chose to sit as far away from Gibbs as he could on the opposite side of the table, facing the door, and keeping an eye on both agents.

"Mr. Macaluso, two days ago Maeve Macaluso's boyfriend was abducted from their apartment." Gibbs let the statement hang in the air, just watching Patrick as he appeared calm and collected, and refused to give Patrick a question to tap dance around.

"I am aware, Special Agent Gibbs. But I fail to see why you would need to speak to me about my aunt's boyfriend."

"Last night some of the investigating agents were imprisoned on false charges, and you had one of your men try and keep them there."

Patrick snorted, and adopted a tone dripping with condescension at the federal agent in front of him. "Good heavens, Agent Gibbs! You brought me all the way to DC for that? We could've resolved this with a simple phone call rather than forcing Tobias here to play gofer."

Gibbs fought back the urge to smirk. Patrick was midway between Tony and Maeve in age, but his misstep couldn't be chalked up to youth. It was clear that somewhere along the way someone had stopped teaching him about the art of being questioned. He knew enough to know there was potential to exploit a division between the two senior agents from competing agencies, but he didn't know enough to go about doing it properly. The boy thought that simply trying to breed discontent by making Fornell chafe at the chain of command would be enough, at that was the hallmark of an amateur.

Fornell quirked an eyebrow at Gibbs and in full view of Patrick, enough to convey the irritation at Gibbs that Patrick was looking for, but really asking if Gibbs wanted them to pretend to fall into Patrick's clutches in the hope he would say more than he meant to. Gibbs didn't respond to Fornell's question, which was the signal to hold off for the time being. "And what would you have told me in that phone call Mr. Macaluso?"

"Grandfather asked to see Tonio yesterday, and Tonio refused. I thought that keeping him in the city for the night would give us time to arrange a way for them to talk."

"And by 'arrange', you mean get someone in the building who would release Tony to your custody before I got there."

"Tonio is his own man Agent Gibbs. He wouldn't be _forced_ to do anything he didn't want to."

Gibbs tightened his jaw and the word choice and flicked his eyebrow up just a fraction, easily conveying that he knew full well that 'not forced' didn't mean anywhere near the same thing as 'of his own free will'.

XXXXXXX

Down in the lab Abby, Tim, and Ziva were too busy watching the screen with baited breath to realize when Tony and Maeve walked in behind them. Tony's question of, "When did Patrick get here?" caused all three of them to jump, and McGee and Abby to exchange slightly nervous glances. Ziva, however, just asked what the both of them were too nervous to say.

"Why do you and Patrick look alike?"

"Because they're cousins." The reply came from Maeve, who answered too fast for Tony to tell them they were crazy, he and Patrick looked nothing alike. "Well, not exactly cousins. More like..." Maeve paused a moment to draw a genealogy chart in the air and continued, "third cousins? What's the technical name for your second cousin's son?"

Tim opened his mouth to explain the theory behind cousin designation but Ziva interrupted him with, "And Tony's second cousin would be...?"

"Mike. And, well, me. And the rest of my brothers."

Ziva's full attention was on Maeve now, while McGee and Abby seemed torn between her and the screen with an interrogating Gibbs behind them. "Tony... is your, cousin?"

"Uh huh. Well, my dad and his dad are cousins, so that would make Tony my second cousin, but basically cousins. Especially since I know Tony better than almost all of my actual cousins, and really, my brothers."

Tony looked for a moment like his eyes were going to bug out of his head while Mae leaked information like a sieve. "When did you get so chatty?"

She caught Tony's uncomfortable tone and replied, "What? Am I not supposed to talk about it?"

"Of course you are." Ziva interrupted, "Tony's just shy."

Mae cocked her head to the side and stared at Ziva like she didn't understand. 'Shy' was most certainly not an adjective associated with Tony. "Hey guys..." McGee interrupted was what certain to be an epic verbal sparring match between Ziva and Tony. "I think you should watch this." McGee's desire to watch the interrogation had won out over wanting to know about Tony's connection to the Macalusos, and that was turning out to be best for all of them.

Gibbs was leaned comfortably back in his chair, with an eyebrow quirked at whatever Patrick had just said. Gibbs didn't lean back in chairs, he didn't slouch, he didn't shrug, he didn't do anything to compromise his marine-perfect posture. The sprawl he affected at that moment meant he was about three stupid comments by Patrick away from putting Rule 9 to good use.

"Now Mr. Macaluso, explain to me exactly what sort of proof you have that my agent is on Gio's payroll."

"Once again, Mr. Gibbs, had you simply displayed the common courtesy to _call me_ about the purpose behind this little visit, I would've been more than happy to bring along proof about Tonio's true loyalties."

"So, you have nothing."

Tony was out the lab door and on his way to the conference room before Gibbs even had a chance to reply to the insinuations. McGee tried to grab him, but Tony was a man on a mission and wasn't to be stopped. Abby watched his retreating back for just a moment before turning back to the screen and muttering, "Oh, Gibbs is gonna kill us."

On the screen Patrick was replying, "Not nothing, just not here."

Gibbs grinned and replied, "You should know better than to make accusations without the proof in front of you. Making claims you can't you can't substantiate is an excellent way to make all the evidence..." Tony rapped on the door, but didn't wait for approval before stepping inside. Gibbs smirked again, sure that Tony had been watching the feed in the lab with the rest of them, and finished his thought, "disappear".

Patrick smiled as soon as Tony walked in the room, and if Gibbs hadn't made a sport out of watching DiNozzo these last few years, he would've believed that Patrick was genuinely excited to see him. But Patrick had the same tells as his cousin, and was anything but excited. Tony could occasionally convince Gibbs he was feeling an emotion he wasn't, but he was a far better actor than Patrick. The look in Patrick's eyes at this moment was sheer, blind panic. As though he had thought Gibbs had neglected to tell Tony he was going to be there, and he would never have to look Tony in the eye.

"Tonio! How are you?"

Tony didn't even bother pretending. He sat down on the chair directly opposite Macaluso and firmly said, "Anthony."

"...Excuse me?"

"My name is Anthony. You seem to be operating under the delusion that you've earned the right to speak to me like you're Gio."

"Tonio,-" Tony slammed his hand down the table, in a very Gibbs-like gesture, but done with a wrath they weren't expecting. Everyone watching in the lab jumped at the motion and the cold look in Tony's eyes. It felt like this wasn't _their_ Tony sitting in that room, like on his journey from the lab to the conference room he'd slipped undercover and become someone else.

Patrick stuttered for a moment, all calm and poise dropped in the face of a pissed off Tony. "Explain yourself, Patrick." He floundered for an answer response, then Tony continued. "Explain how you thought it was a good decision to try and manipulate _me_."

Something dark and feral flickered across Patrick's face and he spat back, "I have every right to do to you as I please!"

Tony chucked at that. A dark laugh at a stooge who didn't know any better, and it was a strange sound coming from Tony. "You are a fool. You're an accountant and a whelp designed to do as I tell you. You honestly think that given a choice between the two of us that Gio would choose _you_?"

"Gio trusts me!"

"He trusts you to do. as. you. are. told. You're a puppet. A plaything. But I'm an heir."

McGee ignored the gasp from Abby that echoed in deathly silent lab and kept listened to the argument on screen. "You have no right! You gave it up!"

This wasn't Tony talking. There was no way. He was too still, like a he was coiled back and waiting to strike. Tony was a dangerous man, McGee knew that, but this was danger of a different sort. The veil of compassion that controlled Tony's actions was gone, like all the ruthlessness he kept inside was free now, and flaring out to swallow Patrick whole. "You honestly believe that there's _anything_ I could do that would make him not take me back? I shunned him and became a Federal Agent and he still wants me! Just what is it you have that makes you think that he could _ever_ want you more than me?"

McGee flinched on Patrick's behalf. He was a mobster, but McGee still felt empathy for the man being scolded by Tony like he was an impetuous child. That's when it clicked to McGee. Tony was being Giovanni. Like a switch had been flipped, Patrick was now jittery and falling apart at the seams. All because Tony had him in hand with a tone of voice that must be Tony's inner mob boss.

"Sir, I..."

"Back to my very simple question, Patrick. Why did you want me in jail for the night?"

"Because you refused to see him!" Patrick's explanation came out in a burst, and he looked mortified. Tony gave him a moment to collect himself and let him continue to explain. "I told your boss the truth. The Old Man called to ask for your help, and you refused him. You helped when Maeve asked, but_ him _you refused to talk to. You're fair game when you're in Baltimore, and I thought that if I could keep you there, I could arrange a way for him to see you."

"Why?"

Patrick actually sputtered at that. "Why? You're the one thing he wants that no one can get! You won't see him, won't talk to him, hell, you won't even acknowledge that you've ever had anything to do with him!"

"So that's why you took Eli. To get me around the family."

"No! I had nothing to do with Eli going missing. None of us did. If we had, Gio would know, and he would've told you himself. Right now no one in the family knows a thing, and Gio's got no reason to force you to see him to get the intel. Believe me, the second any of us know anything, Gio will know, and you'll be getting blackmailed into a visit."

Gibbs, Tony, and Fornell all moved at the same time, so smooth it seemed coordinated. They were out the door in an instant, with one pointed look from Gibbs into the camera, telling the team to stay in the lab, they were on their way down.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N:** A short little guy of a chapter, I apologize. But give me a few hours and you'll have another chapter this afternoon. I figured I wouldn't make you wait for 12 just because I'm finishing 13. You're all beautiful, and thank you for the boatload of reviews!

* * *

The three men were still debating when they got off the elevator and walked into the lab, devoutly ignoring the panic-stricken expressions of the three government agents already in the room. "I believe Patrick, Boss. If any of the Macalusos knew anything about Eli, the Old Man would know, and he would've said something to us."

"DiNutso's right, Gibbs. As much as it pains me to admit."

Gibbs ignored their continued attempts to convince him, which they both caught, and Tony said, "You didn't think Patrick had anything to do with before we even brought him in here, did you?"

Gibbs shot Tony a look which could only be translated as, 'Duh.' and Tony sighed. "Why did we have to interview him them?"

"Needed to see if he knew about something else that we've turned up."

Tony and Fornell waited uselessly for further explanation before Tony finally caved and said, "Well did he?"

Gibbs didn't answer the question directly, he just turned to McGee and demanded, "Did you figure out what they wanted buried?"

"Um, well... it's a lot of information, Boss."

"_Who _wanted _what_ buried?" Gibbs was about to respond with something snarky, and Fornell shot him back a look that said, 'Don't be an ass, Gibbs.'

"The boys at the Bureau's organized crime division buried us in paper when Jen finally got them to deliver. They're hiding something."

"And you think they let _Patrick_ in on the plan?"

"I think he's on the short list of people in the organization who have influence with the FBI and are stupid enough to think that re-involving Tony is a good way to get to Gio. I doubt he's in on the plan, but I be he thinks he is."

Tony joined Fornell in the line of questioning and asked, "What do you think they're up to, Boss?"

"McGee, open the FBI files and search for something called 'Octavian,' if that's not there, look for 'Augustus.'

McGee didn't even pause when Maeve gasped at Gibbs' order, but went straight to file hunting. Abby went to the other computer and looked for the second name while McGee searched for the first, leaving Ziva to ask, "Boss, what's Octavian?"

Gibbs turned to Tony, letting him take a moment to scrub a hand through his hair before replying, "Me."

The silence hung for a moment before Maeve handled the real explanation. "My father is a ... history buff."

"Freakin' obsessed." Tony muttered over her while he still processed what McGee might be turning up.

"Yes, well, anyway. He's got little segments of history that are his favorites. Things like the Arthurian myths, the Spanish conquest of the Incas, and the beginnings of the Roman Empire, particularly Caesar. As he's gotten older he's started to think more about Caesar and the transition of the Empire to his nephew Octavian, later called Augustus. Gio, well, he used to have nicknames for my brothers. Odd nicknames."

"He called them by the names of Roman generals." Maeve shot Tony a look, like she didn't quite appreciate the tone he used to make her father sound like a psychopath. "What, Mae? It's weird. When he's in a particularly dramatic mood he starts throwing down the Roman nicknames, and you know exactly what he thinks of you from what he thinks about the generals."

"Tony," Ziva said, very carefully. "Your nickname was Octavian."

"Yes."

"Caesar's heir was named Octavian."

"Yup."

"You weren't pulling Patrick's arm when you called yourself Gio's heir."

"Pulling his leg, and no Ziva, I wasn't. I'm not actually down on any of the paperwork, because the Old Man knows I'll never take it, but if I wanted to come back and take the family business, he'd let me."

Abby had finished her search, turning up no results, and took the chance to ask Tony, "But why?"

"Remember that conversation about good dons and bad dons? And how Gio's the _best_? His sons aren't. They aren't loved, they aren't liked. Hell, they're barely even tolerated. The people only let them run around because they're under Gio's control. He needs someone for the business to function as the overseer to the rest of them. Not someone involved in the dirty work of crime, but someone to put up a loveable public front while keeping them from burning the city to the ground."

"And that would be you?"

"In his rose-colored glasses vision of the world, yes."

The computer McGee was furiously typing on beeped, and Tim put the newly opened files up on the plasma. "The Octavian file looks like a whole bunch of accounts, Boss. It's got records of bank statements, account numbers, and monthly deposits. In total it looks like it's worth well over 10 million dollars."

Fornell stepped up to the screen with Gibbs, focusing on a set of numbers in the corner of the image rather than taking in the whole like Gibbs did. "Jethro, this designation, here" he pointed to the numbers, "means these are sleeper accounts."

"'Sleeper?'"

"They're being kept off-grid, with no names attached. When people go looking, these accounts look they belong to someone who only exists in the FBI's imagination. They go on collecting interest and just being in existence, then when the FBI assigns them to someone, they appear to have been in that person's possession for as long as they've actually been with the FBI. The Bureau usually has dozens of fake accounts already set up for use for our undercover operatives. It's almost impossible to prove the accounts haven't been where we say they've been the whole time."

"Boss, why would the FBI have all these accounts in a file with Tony's nickname?" The question had barely made it past McGee's lips before he wished he could reel it back in. The question came out idiotic, but it was legitimate, nonetheless.

"I believe McGee means," Ziva saved him, "why would the FBI apparently want to blackmail Tony?"

"Damn. It's just like Patrick said." Tony had been quiet for the last few minutes, now finally speaking up from his location behind all of them, forcing them to turn and look back at him standing rigidly still with Mae's hand wrapped in his. "Gio always gets what he wants. And if someday he's holding out on them, I'm their ace in the hole. They can make it look like I've been on Gio's payroll for years. When they need to bring him to heel, they threaten to report the accounts unless I play nice."

"It's a good thing we've got our own friendly, neighborhood FBI agent to stop that from happening then, isn't it?"

Gibbs shot Fornell a very pointed look, to which the agent had the grace to snort at Gibbs and say, "What Jethro? You thought I was going to condone them blackmailing another federal agent? That's just cold, Gibbs."

"Think you can track down which agent has been putting together this deal, Tobias?"

"Of course. You think they had something to do with the kidnapping?"

"Won't know until we ask." Fornell just snorted and headed for the door, already making the call to get someone looking into it.

Abby let the quiet sit in the lab for a moment as each of the agents put the pieces together themselves, but then she finally had to interrupt. "So, umm… story?"

"There's no story, Abs."

"Tony, you just went all hard-core, Marlon Brando style, mob boss on somebody, while proclaiming yourself the heir to the mob boss you learned that scary-pants tone from, and you expect us to believe there's no story there?"

"Fine, Abs. There's a story, it's just not a _good _story."

"Tony, it's You v. Mob Boss, how could it _not_ be a good story?"

"Fine, Abs. It's a _great_ story, very Jason Bourne, I just don't come across very well in it." She opened her mouth to try for the truth again, but Tony shot her a look that begged her to leave it alone.

She sighed and went along with him, unable to deny Tony his moment of peace, and changed the subject. "So, we just traded the Macaluso mob family for the FBI as our prime suspect in this abduction. Did I get that right?"

Gibbs spared a moment to smirk and turned back to the team, "DiNozzo, David. Go back to the apartment building and talk to the neighbors again. Someone has to have seen something."

"Gibbs, we talked to _everyone_ in the building. No one saw anything." Gibbs just leveled a perfect glare at Tony, and with a sigh he said, "But of course, asking them again won't hurt anything."


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I was totally about to apologize for not getting this out sooner, but I figure that A) this is your second chapter today, B) this is your fourth chapter this week, C) you can't fault me for wanting to work all the kinks out of it, and D) you get a giant heaping helping of answers on Monday - So, I refrain from apologizing.

You're all beautiful people! And guess what? We've hit 150 reviews! Wanna know what's never happened to me before? Hitting 150 reviews! You're all awesome, and I love you, and I hope your weekends are about to be as good as mine.

**Warning: **There's a racial slur or two in this chapter, and I'm sorry about that, but they serve their purpose. And FYI: A hakenkreuz is a the technical name for the tilted swastika used by the Nazi party. (Just in case you didn't want to wikipedia that).

* * *

"You seem miffed." Ziva asked.

"Miffed, Ninja Girl?"

"Yes, miffed. Closer to 'put out' than 'pissed', and not nearly enough to be 'irate'."

Tony stopped mid-knock on the apartment door they stood in front of to gawk at Ziva. "What?" she asked, "I used them properly."

"That, my dear Ziva, would be why I'm confused."

They just stood staring at one another for a moment before Ziva repeated, "Why are you miffed?"

"I dunno Ziva, maybe because we're knocking on the doors of people we've already to, or maybe 'cause half of them aren't at home because it's the middle of the day." Tony had been knocking while he ranted, and decided this was another apartment with no one home and moved on.

"Or maybe because it looks like the love of my baby cousin's life got nabbed by the Bureau because five years ago I didn't trust my gut and tell her father to get bent." Tony made his way down the hall, banging on the next door while Ziva patiently remained in front of the first door.

"Why don't you want to talk about it?"

"This here, this is me talking about it."

"No, this is you throwing a tantrum." Tony whirled and glared at Ziva from down the hall, the both of them in a standoff.

"Why don't you talk about what you did for Mossad?"

"I do!"

"Saying you can kill me with a paperclip isn't talking about it, Ziva. What about some of your missions?"

"Those are classified."

Tony sauntered back to her position, secure that he'd gotten control of the conversation again. "Alright then. Tell me about your father." Pain flickering across her eyes was Ziva's only response. "There are things we don't talk about, Ziva. Gibbs doesn't mention his family, McGee won't talk about high school, you ignore your father, and me, I get this. All of us have things better left buried."

Ziva tilted her head in acceptance as the elevator behind them dinged and dumped out two of the scraggliest looking men Tony had ever seen. They were both solidlybuilt, with broad shoulders and thick arms. The first reeked of cigarette smoke, and with his greasy mullet and acid washed wranglers he couldn't have looked more hillbilly if he tried. His arms and neck (and Tony could only assume his chest as well) were covered in tattoos, none of them particularly well done, but still inflammatory enough to get him stared at on the DC train, which was probably the real reason he got them in the first place. The second guy had far fewer tattoos, separated by enough space that Tony could actually count them, and with his buzz cut could've passed as _not_ a skinhead out in polite society. Well, until he turned his head and you saw the hakenkreuz tattooed on the back of his skull.

Both men stepped off the elevator, giving Ziva appraising looks that made Tony's blood boil. In a not at all subtle move, Tony stepped forward, placing himself between Ziva and the men and asked, "Gentlemen, could we ask you a couple of questions?"

The one with the mullet chuckled like Tony had just done something stupid and said, "I dunno, _can _you?"

Tony bit his tongue to stop himself from replying and shot Ziva a look that said, 'Yup, that _actually_ happened. A fully grown man made a grammar joke like a seven year old.' Tony just grinned like that was the cleverest thing he'd ever heard and said with a smile, "Point taken. So _may_ we ask you a few questions?"

Buzz Cut put a hand on Mullet's elbow, stopping him from answering the question on his own, and said instead, "We don't know anything that would help you officer."

"Oh come on boys, you don't even know what we're here for." Buzz moved to head down the hall, but Tony stepped in his path, holding up his hands where they were clearly visible to Buzz. "A U.S. Marine was abducted from this apartment building two nights ago. I'm Agent DiNozzo, this is Agent Gibbs," Tony gestured to Ziva at that name, "and we're investigating his disappearance."

Now that Tony was standing so close to Buzz he got a proper look at all his tattoos, and Tony assumed that mentioning a missing marine to a guy with his own Corp tat on his inner left forearm would be enough to get their assistance. But, the guy looked like he wanted nothing more than to pound Tony's skull against the wall until he wasn't conscious anymore.

Buzz stepped further into Tony's space, trying to leer down at him despite his lesser height. He spoke slowly, over enunciating as though Tony was too stupid to understand him. "That Heeb isn't a real marine. And whoever took him did the Corp a service."

Buzz stepped around Tony, his shoulder sharply colliding with Tony's, and went down the hall. Mullet followed, looking less ruthless than his companion, but still intimidating in his role as the dumb muscle.

Tony and Ziva resumed knocking on a door they'd been at before, and already knew no one was home. Ziva hissed at Tony under her breath, "Why did you lie about my last name!"

Tony looked at her incredulously and asked, "You're kidding me, right? You _saw_ them, Ziva! They didn't need to know you're Jewish."

"I'm not ashamed of who I am, Tony!"

Tony took a deep breath, stifling the urge to lash out and bury his fist into the drywall and replied, "This isn't about _shame_, Ziva. This is about two guys covered in swastikas and us already getting arresting last night. Now let's just do our job."

Ziva glared at the men down the hallway while Tony knocked again. Ziva lifted an eyebrow at him, but paused when Tony mouthed, 'wait'.

He cocked his head over his shoulder, motioning for Ziva to keep watch on them. The men made their way down the long hall and Ziva pulled out her phone to nonchalantly snap a picture of them as she kept tabs on which apartment they entered. Once the men were inside, Ziva and Tony gave up the pretense of knocking on doors and checked on the apartment number.

"Didn't we interview everyone on this floor yesterday?" Ziva asked.

"Definitely. Mae's apartment is down at the other end of this hall and we made sure we covered everyone on this floor because of that."

"Well we _definitely_ didn't talk to _them_." Ziva always got a little pissy when she wasn't allowed to beat people she thought were a disgrace to the human race. Usually Gibbs let her get away with a small amount of violence (just enough to not trigger brutality charges), since those people usually irritated Gibbs as well by being a disgrace to the Corp. However, on this occasion Tony thought it was better to let Ziva be extremely pissed instead of letting her kill the skinheads.

Tony went with a very calm response, ignoring her thirst to get into a yelling match. "Which begs the question, why do they have a key to an apartment they're not living in?" Tony noted the apartment number and pulled the list of tenants out of his pocket to compare. He scanned over the paper for a moment then with a sharp, "Shit!" started for the elevator.

"Tony?"

"The apartment belongs to Max Young. The chatty doctor who spends too much time with Mae."

XXXXXXX

Mae was sitting cross-legged on one end of an autopsy table with Jimmy Palmer on the end, and a vicious game of Speed going on in the space between them. Ziva and Tony had stopped off at the bullpen on their way down to Maeve, both to update Gibbs on the added factor of crazy neighbors, and to pick the other two men up for the necessary chat with Mae.

Jimmy knew exactly what the expressions of the approaching team meant, and he turned to Mae with a sigh and said, "I'm gonna go get you something to eat."

Jimmy fled autopsy, leaving Mae with the team and Ducky, and she asked, "I take it Jimmy being banished means you don't have good news."

"Nah, Jimmy gets banished all the time." Tony propped himself up on the table across from Mae and picked up Jimmy's discarded hand. He resumed play, but at a much more sedate pace than the game usually called for. "We wanted to ask you about your neighbor, Max Young."

"What about him?" Mae sounded genuinely confused at the question, unsure where Tony intended to go with this.

"You know – what he's like, how many times a week you see one another, what his boyfriend's like, that sort of thing."

"First off, Max has girlfriends, not boyfriends."

"Really? You sure?" Tony asked the question lightly to not spook Mae, but the rest of the team knew what he was doing. Tony had mentioned to them before coming down that in their initial interview Young had dropped a mention of his boyfriend, but a gay guy didn't seem the sort of fellow two skinheads would be socializing with. Especially not on the level where they had a key to his apartment.

"Of course I'm sure. He asked me out a month after I moved in, and since then I've seen just women coming and going from his place."

"Huh, I guess my gay-dar's off. He have a specific type of girl he goes for?"

Mae pulled a face at him and said, "Tonio, there's nothing off about Max. He's a nice guy. He helps me carry my groceries, doesn't make a lot of noise, and he even helped me fix my front door after someone tried to break into my place a few weeks ago."

The agents all stiffened at that, and Tony asked, "Mae, you didn't think a former break in was something you should tell us about?"

Mae grimaced at the oversight and replied, "I didn't think it was that important. They didn't get away with anything because one of the other neighbors caught them in the act. They just broke my lock trying to pick it." Abby had the photo from Ziva's phone in her lab, cleaning it up and about to run a trace on the men it captured, and Tony would bet good money that one of those men had 'picked the lock' to her place. Really, they'd probably just been trying to give Max the chance to get a key.

"And then Max went with you to buy a new lock. And I'll bet he even installed it for you." Since he bought the lock it would be easy to get a copy made before he installed it for Mae, giving him a perfect opportunity to break into her place whenever he chose.

"Tonio, don't say it in that _tone_." The team caught the slightest flinch by Tony at Mae speaking to him that way, and they recognized it as the same affect Tony had used when channeling Gio. Mae was using the same tactic on him that he'd used on Patrick, psychologically forcing him back into whatever box Gio told him he belonged in.

Tony drew a deep breath then met Mae's gaze, every inch the federal agent rather than the genial mask he'd adopted for the interview. "Miss Macaluso." She flinched, and he went on, still kind, but lacking the familiarity she was used to. "We're not here to protect your neighbor's reputation, we're here to find a missing lieutenant. Having the lock on your front door replaced recently is a piece of information we need because it goes to opportunity. We wasted time trying to figure out how the abductors got into your apartment, and this might explain that."

Mae dropped her gaze and sniffled slightly at the scolding. Tony stretched out his hand and tapped her on the bottom of the chin to reassure her. "We're just trying to find Eli, little one. Nothing else matters." She smiled slightly at him and he continued with a smirk, "Well, not _nothing_ else. I'm sure Palmer's on his way to get a pizza that's pretty important."

He slid off the autopsy table and held out a hand to Mae, ushering her out of the room and off to join Palmer in his quest for pizza. She slipped off the table and dove straight into his arms, muttering about how sorry she was. "Tonio, I didn't mean to hold out on you. I swear!"

"I know, little one. I know."

Maeve leaned in all the closer and whispered in Tony's ear, "I couldn't have held out on you, or them. They love you, Tonio. So much better than we ever did." Tony pressed a kiss to her temple and tugged her out of autopsy, rambling about the benefits of the pizza from his favorite place down the street.

Tony met eyes with Gibbs for a brief moment as he was leaving, not even breaking his stride or changing his expression. But that was enough.

With that look, Tony gave Gibbs permission to tell the story.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Alright, I hope you can forgive me, but these next two chapters MUST be posted/read together. They fit together too well and are closer to Part A & Part B rather than two separate chapters, but I didn't want a chapter that long. So, I hope you don't mind, but you get two chapters today. Are ya'll alright with that? ; )

* * *

Ziva and Tim stood there, patiently waiting for their new set of orders, not realizing what had just passed between Gibbs and Tony. But Ducky did. He turned on the small webcam to the lab and lightly asked, "My dear Abigail, would you mind joining us in autopsy?"

With a "Sure, Ducky." the feed flicked off and Abby was already on her way. McGee and Ziva shot one another glances, silently asking if the other had figured out something they hadn't. With a speed unnatural for someone in platform boots, Abby got to autopsy and sensed the uncertainty in her peers straight away.

She hesitated a moment then carefully asked, "What's up?"

Gibbs gestured to the closest autopsy table where the three of them hopped up and sat in a row. For a moment, Gibbs had a flash of what they must've been like when they were children. Ziva, with frizzy hair, a quick wit, and so easy to please; Tim, with a quiet giggle, too many books, and just wanting to be one of the cool kids; and Abby, with her gentle heart, too much energy, and joy at the simple things. He could see them sitting there in his mind's eye, three of his children waiting to hear tell of their elder brother, and he prayed this wouldn't break them.

Ducky knew Gibbs needed a minute to gather himself and figure out how to begin this foray into a truth that he still couldn't quite believe had happened. So Ducky began for him. "Ziva, how do you turn a man who cannot be bought, blackmailed, or convinced he's on the wrong side. A man unflinchingly loyal."

If Ziva was thrown by the question she didn't show it when she answered, "Isolation. If you can't convince him to turn, then you convince him to trust you too and create the opportunity to get the information you need from them without letting them realize it's a betrayal."

"Precisely. Though in young Anthony's case they didn't want information, they simply wanted _him_."

"Why _does_ Gio have this obsession with Tony?"

Ducky cleared his throat slightly and looked to Gibbs to handle that question. "His mother."

Abby voiced the utterly outlandish thought they all were having and said, "Gio wasn't, like, in love with Tony's mom or something was he?"

That got a slight smirk out of Gibbs while he answered, "Almost. Tony's mom and Maeve's mom were sisters. Separated by different fathers and quite a few years, but Tony says they looked like twins. Macaluso met Mae's mother at a party thrown by Tony's parents when Tony was young. According to Tony his mother begged her sister not to get involved with Gio, but she did it anyway.

"When Tony's mom died he split his time between his aunt's house and his father's. Tony says it was a good few years. He loved his aunt; she was playful like his mom, but drank a helluva lot less. He saw Gio just enough to like the stuff he bought, but not enough to really know him.

"Apparently when Tony was twelve his aunt got pregnant with Mae. By this point she wanted nothing to do with Gio, but she couldn't get out of the relationship. She could protect her own child from Gio if stayed with him, but not Tony. Dinozzo Senior couldn't be trusted to guard his own son and Gio had already taken too much of an interest in Tony. He was clever, and kind, and charming, and Gio had already started crafting a place in the organization for him."

The rage steadily kept building the more Gibbs spoke, faced with the children his imagination could see before him, now complete with a small Tony, with unruly hair, bright eyes, and every inch of him just begging someone to want to keep him.

"The aunt sent Tony off to boarding school and emancipated him so DiNozzo Senior couldn't pull Tony out of school if Gio told him to. She made Tony swear to stay in that school until he was eighteen and then whatever he chose to do, stay the hell away from Giovanni Macaluso."

"Apparently that did not work out as planned."

Gibbs snorted. "That would be an understatement Ziva. About a year after Tony started at NCIS we a got a new hire from the NYPD, Greg White. He and Tony hit it off."

"Hit it off doesn't cover it, Gibbs." Abby interjected. "They were best friends. They hung out weekends, did movie marathons, and Greg even went with Tony's frat brothers to Mexico!"

Gibbs furrowed at the memory of Greg, and Abby started to panic. "Oh no ... please Gibbs, please tell me Greg wasn't a plant."

"Wish I could, Abs."

"But his transfer back to the NYPD?"

"Done at Morrow's request and followed by an IA inquest and the loss of his badge."

"Seriously? Gibbs, how did this happen?" Abby was so agitated at this point Gibbs was almost surprised she wasn't pacing.

"Gio sent Greg with a list of Tony's favorites and pet peeves, and instructions to be the best agent he could be to reflect well on DiNozzo."

"He became Tony's friend because Gio _told him to_?"

Gibbs didn't nod but the look on his face that welcomed their outrage (while still reminding him that their rage would never outstrip his), and that was enough to tell them. "I will kill him." Ziva said it with such calm clarity that no one in the room doubted her, and Abby added, "I'll destroy the evidence."

Gibbs bit back a grin and consoled them with, "There are worse things than death for a cop, and Greg is facing them." He didn't feel much like sharing that Tom had seen to it that Greg was ostracized from every law enforcement agency on the east coast, and should any agency in the country decide Greg was worth the hiring, then they could expect to get stonewalled by every federal agency until Greg was fired.

Gibbs waited until the fierce look in Ziva's eyes calmed slightly, then he continued. "They were just good friends for about six months, and then Greg started to isolate Tony. He put a card in his phone that forwarded calls from all his friends, and since all of Tony's friends were now Greg's friends too, he spread the word that Tony was in a serious relationship, but you couldn't bring it up in front of Tony because it hadn't quite hit him yet that he was in love with her. Everyone trusted Greg and his plan to not spook Tony and his commitment issues out of true love, so eventually people stopped calling, waiting for Tony to even himself out and start hanging out with them all again, and no one called Tony on it."

"Tony wasn't really dating anyone? Seriously? I mean, Greg told me all about how Tony's dad kept leaving his wives and completely screwed up love for him, so Tony thought he was broken. The whole building thought we were in on this great plan where we would keep quiet about the relationship until Tony was too happy to survive without her, no matter how messed up he thought he was, and he'd get over it."

Gibbs had a twitch in the corner of his eye which none of them knew how to interpret. It was either wrath that Greg was making things up about Tony, or – the much more likely option – he couldn't stand that anyone on the planet knew Tony like Gibbs did and had used that scarcely given trust to screw with him. "Abs, you have to realize that almost anything Greg told you about Tony at that time was either a lie or bent far enough away from the to manipulate."

McGee took the burden off Gibbs and his temper at that line of questioning and asked, "But how did he cut Tony off without messing up a case?"

"They talked to each other all the time! Greg and Tony were like twins, so he totally would've known when Tony was on call, or when we had cases." Abby's outrage grew with each detail she heard, and she couldn't stop herself from ranting.

"He cut Tony off from all of us, making him think that one day everyone just stopped giving a rat's ass about him in any way other than professionally. At the same time, Gio and Mae would call him every few weeks, just to ask how he was doing, and promise that no matter what happened between them before, they would be there if he ever needed them. And Tony being Tony, just took it on the chin instead of turning to one of us and asking what the hell was going on."

Ducky snorted at that and Gibbs replied with a trifle less anger, "Yeah Duck, I know. Greg only did what he did with the opportunities we gave him, but I can still be pissed when DiNozzo doesn't believe in himself."

Ducky just sighed, choosing to ignore this long-standing dispute between the two of them. They let his irritated silence sit for a few moments before Ziva got them back on target, "Gibbs, what _happened_ five years ago?"

"Greg just waited until Tony and I had a fight. Every Probie of mine gets one mistake where they couldn't have known what would happen, and it should've cost them their badge; Kate trusted a murderer, McGee, you shot a cop, Ziva, you killed a suspect in an elevator, and Tony was no different. Just like all of you, he had himself convinced he was fired.

"Only, unlike when he made his mistake, you all had Tony looking after you. Ducky and Abby tried, but Greg locked them out so Tony didn't know. I sent Tony home for a week because of his injuries from the mess up and that plus: fear he'd lost his job, months of thinking everyone at work didn't give a shit about him, and no Abby or Ducky stepping up to offer comfort, was enough to push Tony past his breaking point."

"He went native."

"Yeah, Tim. He did. "

"What happened?"

Gibbs shifted a little, uncomfortable with this part of the story and sure that despite giving permission to tell the story, Tony probably didn't want the details of this part shared. "He spent four days cooped up in his apartment, no word from any of us at work other than Greg. Then on that fourth night, Mae and Gio turned up. Greg fed Tony a story about how he'd heard messages from them on the answering machine in the months before, and since he was so worried about Tony, he thought he should call the people who sounded like family."

Ziva's eyes darkened at that and she spat out, "Did he use those words exactly?"

"'Family?' Yeah."

Gibbs could see her grip tighten on the autopsy table, bracing herself against bursting out the door and killing Macaluso herself. The whole team knew that 'family' was a bit of a trigger word for DiNozzo, dredging up both the best and worst emotions in him. Tony would spend the rest of his life wrestling with abandonment issues, and while he struggled with them, the whole concept of a selfless family was so intense for him that to bandy the word about triggered responses he couldn't help. It was all Tony had ever really wanted, and what he would do anything to keep. The trouble was teaching Tony the sort of family he should be bleeding himself for.

"They came, they crashed on his couch, got rid of his alcohol, told him they were proud of how he behaved in Baltimore, and in a mess of psychological screwing I will never really understand, they got Tony on a plane. When I made it to work on Monday morning I found his gun, badge, and a letter of resignation on my desk."

"How did I not know any of this?" Abby looked absolutely heartbroken that despite not being privy to any of this info before today, she still hadn't been able to help.

"I pulled up the security tapes and saw Greg leave them on my desk. I knew that however pissed Tony was, he would've left them for me himself."

"But, Boss ..." McGee got the question halfway out then seemed to think better of it. Gibbs wasn't having any of that, so he just cocked his eyebrow as if to say, 'What?'

"Well, how did you know to look at the security tapes?"

"DiNozzo didn't say thank you."

"What?"

"The letter of resignation was a form letter. Just the basics, 'thank you for this opportunity, but at this time, appreciated the investigative experience, sincerely yours. Looked just like everyone else's resignation letters."

The three of them couldn't help but smile that Gibbs could so easily describe what should be in a resignation letter and Abby cracked, "Got a lot of those have you, Bossman?"

Gibbs though, didn't find it amusing. "A surprisingly small number compared to the number of agents I've _fired_. But the letter just didn't sound like Tony."

"Boss, how could you know what Tony would sound like in a resignation letter, especially when he seemed to be so out of sorts." McGee asked, still not quite getting it.

"Because I had a bundle of resignation letters that Tony had already sent, and so I knew what he sounded like. And Tony definitely isn't one for following the typical form."

"Wait! Tony had resigned before?" Ziva interjected.

"Not the story we're telling today, move on."

"Gibbs!"

"No Abby." She opened her mouth to again demand an answer, but Gibbs rolled right over her and kept telling the only story he had permission to share. "I saw Greg, confronted him, and he caved about Macaluso's involvement and where they took Tony."

"Where _did _they take him?"

Gibbs fought the urge to roll his eyes at this string of unimportant questions, wondering why these were the details they chose to focus on, and decided to just get the answer out of the way. "London.-"

"_London_? Are you kidding me? Can I have a mob boss develop an obsession with me?" Abby snapped her jaw shut, preventing her further ramble, when she saw the look on Gibbs' face that clearly expressed these were not jokes he found amusing, and if he didn't think they were funny, no one was going to.

"I didn't tell anyone but Duck that Tony had gone AWOL, because after his screw up Morrow would've been forced to accept his badge if Tony offered it. So Duck and I kept it quiet and went after him. We told him the truth, talked him down, and brought him home. There's your story."

Abby grabbed McGee's thigh so hard Gibbs suspected it would bruise as she shot him frantic eyes pleading that McGee call Gibbs on his skimming while she was still in the doghouse. However McGee, living up to his intelligence, kept his mouth shut.

But since Ziva actually stood a chance against Gibbs should his temper take a turn for the worse, she stated, "Gibbs, you skipped over all the important parts of that story. What happened in London?"

"Exactly what I told you, Officer David."

Abby whimpered out a pleading, "Gibbs! What did Tony do when you got there? What happened?"

Gibbs spared a moment for a small smirk then answered, "He smiled, and I took care of the rest."


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Please indulge me in my suspension of reality for a moment, because the bells totally wouldn't be ringing at this time, but they are because I say they can and this is my story. And FYI: Tube = Subway in London-speak, just in case you needed to know.

* * *

Gibbs sent them all on their way after that, back to research the neighbors and process evidence for other teams, content to let them stew while he indulged in a memory he found too dear to share, despite DiNozzo's permission.

Gibbs had spent some time in London doing things he wasn't allowed to talk about, and knew exactly where Tony would be in the city before they even stepped off the transport flight. Ducky, having had a far more sorted black ops background than people gave him credit for, was the only person Gibbs brought to guard his six against mob henchmen.

If it was raining, Tony would be in the British Museum, the Greek section. Partially because Tony had always been entranced by what men could do with marble so many thousands of years ago, and partially to watch the tourists gaze at the sculptures through the view screens on their cameras. If it was clear, then there was a step outside St. Paul's Cathedral with Tony's name on it. He would have snagged himself something with Nutella (maybe a gelato, or a cookie, or just an open jar – the kid had an obsession with the stuff), and a coffee from a shop Gibbs that had told him about late one night when they were working on the boat.

DiNozzo would be basking in the sunshine on the white marble steps outside the cathedral, casually watching the tourists scamper about the courtyard and listening to the almost ceaseless music of the bells. If Tony had brought someone with him he'd be cracking Quasimodo jokes at the sound, but Gibbs would bet his life savings that Tony would be sitting there alone, just so the need to make people laugh and feel comfortable at all times wouldn't be there to interrupt his musing.

The music had always been Tony's favorite part of church. The beauty of it echoing through Latin mass had brought peace to him when nothing else made sense, and Gibbs knew that peace would be what Tony was desperately seeking.

Gibbs and Ducky went straight from the US air base to a train, to the Tube, to the St. Paul's stop, having packed nothing more than a carry-on apiece, with just enough reading material to lull themselves to sleep on the military transport flight.

And there Tony was, exactly how Gibbs knew he would be, lapping at a Nutella flavored gelato, and sprawled back on the steps looking ardently American and yet entirely at home here. The perfect picture of a settled ex-pat.

Ducky toured the perimeter while Gibbs made straight for Tony, and knew the second that the federal agent training paid off and Tony sensed Gibbs was there. His shoulders tensed, though he slouched back all the further trying to look calm, and there was the slightest hesitation in between his licks of ice cream.

Gibbs just dropped down next to Tony as gently as his knees would let him. He leaned back against the steps alongside Tony and tilted his face up to the dying sun as he listened to the heavenly sound of bells echoing through the courtyard. They sat there for ten minutes, neither one willing to break the reverie, but finally Tony softly spoke, "Didn't think you'd follow me across the Atlantic, Boss."

"If that were true you wouldn't be calling me _Boss_."

Tony gave the slightest smile and shook his head, baffled by how Gibbs could know him so well and still not seem to give a rat's ass about him.

"I'm allowed to use my vacation days, you know. Especially since until I'm healed up I won't be doing anything but warming a desk." DiNozzo feigned surety while he spoke, but Gibbs could hear the terror lurking behind his words. Tony was terrified that Gibbs had come all the way across the ocean just to get the firing over and done with. That he had screwed up so bad that Gibbs didn't even want him to have the hope he would come back to a job.

Gibbs didn't address the fear directly, but took a roundabout way of quelling it. "What paperwork was Greg supposed to give me, DiNozzo?"

Tony only looked surprised for a moment, then answered, "Extra vacation days. He was supposed to tell Ducky that I still wasn't feeling up to snuff, but I didn't want to put him out by having him fill out the paperwork for more sick days, so I was just going on vacation." It wasn't often Gibbs felt the urge to hug DiNozzo, but he did at that moment. The boy was so good that despite the fact he was sure that Ducky couldn't really have cared if he lived or died, DiNozzo was still so loyal that he didn't want to put the good doctor out by increasing his paperwork.

"Then why did I get your resignation?"

"My... my what?"

"Your resignation. Greg put your badge, your gun, and your letter of resignation on my desk last night."

He watched the expressions on Tony's face start with shock, then melt to pain, shift to understanding, and then blossom into absolute rage as he put the pieces together.

"Son of bitch!" Tony swore loudly, sending wide-eyed tourists scampering around them, giving a wide berth. "Greg works for the Old Man!"

Gibbs would never let it be said that Tony wasn't a smart man. He had the whole mess fitted together from a few words said by Gibbs in the right tone. Tony seemed braced to leap to his feet and return to the Macaluso's flat and do some choice yelling, but then the reality of the situation slammed into him and Gibbs watched as Tony deflated. Instead of holding on to the rage that demanded Tony lash out at Gio and Greg, Tony turned it inwards. He looked at Gibbs out of the corner of his eye, mortified and heartbroken that he'd been so stupid as to doubt Gibbs on the word of a traitor.

"You shouldn't have come, Boss. This ... this was unforgivable."

Gibbs just sighed and said, "Tony, when I threatened the Baltimore Chief of Police for you, a guy who used to be a good friend of mine, and told him that if he didn't let you go I'd ruin his whole damn department, did you think I was blowing smoke? Or when I got Pacci reassigned to FLETC as an instructor, just so he could protect you in one of the safer places on earth, so I didn't have to worry while I made it clear to every agency with any connection to the Macalusos that you were off limits? Or two weeks in, when you were tip-toeing around waiting for the bottom to fall out and I swore to you that the only way I was gonna let you go would be when you told me you _wanted it_ and I actually believed you?"

Tony's head was in his head at this point, fingers raking through his short, unruly hair. The next words came out slow and halting, like they were being ripped from him. "Gibbs, I thought ... I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought I'd screwed up so bad you didn't want to keep me around ... No matter what you may have said before."

"Tony, one of these days you're going to actually realize that-"

"I _know,_ Boss. You'd die for me. But really, you're you. You'd die for anybody to stop a bad guy, so that line doesn't mean much." The statement was crass and false, and the second it was out of Tony's mouth he wished it back.

He was too uncomfortable with the constancy of Gibbs, sitting there sturdy and true, after chasing him across an ocean. Tony could tell a story for every day since they'd met that would be proof that Gibbs would never turn on him, and never abandon him, but somehow Tony had drowned in his own doubt and forgotten that. He felt like a pathetic wretch who _should _be abandoned, not fought for.

Gibbs' smack to the back of Tony's head was quick and well deserved. "No Tony, I'd _live_ for you. That's a hell of a lot harder, and I'd still do it anyway. Even after today."

That was all it took. A few words from Gibbs and Tony was back on the path. Gibbs knew Tony would spend years working until he actually felt forgiven, but to Gibbs it was all done and forgotten.

They stopped off at the Macaluso flat so Tony could collect his things while Ducky and Gibbs made certain that Macaluso didn't try this again. Tony never asked what Gibbs had done, and Gibbs never told him, both of them sure they were protecting the other by keeping it quiet.

Those moments on the steps would always mean the world to Gibbs, now knowing that Tony would never doubt how Gibbs felt about him again. Sure, they'd fight, but Tony would never again be the beaten puppy who didn't know who actually loved him.

But that wasn't the part too cherished to share. There was another bit to the memory that made it so Gibbs knew Tony wouldn't have it in him to walk away, no matter what in the hell Gibbs did.

And heaven knows that Tony had every reason to up and leave plenty of times, especially in the weeks after Gibbs came back from Mexico but before his memory came back to him fully. The more treasured second memory came flooding back to Gibbs at two am and after the better part of a bottle of bourbon. Gibbs had gone straight to Tony's apartment and pounded on the door until he answered.

DiNozzo had looked confused and pissed as all hell, until Gibbs pulled him into a hug and apologized for forgetting him. Tony wept like any son would after being forgotten by his father. And while Tony thought he would spend his life atoning for Baltimore, Gibbs knew he would spend his repenting for Mexico.

The dearer memory came on the flight home, after everything had been fixed, mob bosses threatened, and all the details explained to Tony, mixed in with stories from Ducky about seeing MI-6 trained agents falling to the same treatment as DiNozzo, so no shame was necessary.

They were all exhausted, and Ducky dropped off before the plane even left the tarmac. Gibbs gave it about twenty minutes, then his breathing evened to the point where not even Shannon would've known he was really awake, especially not in the thunder of the transport. Tony had been placed on the seat in between Gibbs and Ducky, neither one willing to leave him to anyone else's protection just yet. Tony waited another ten minutes after he assumed Gibbs was asleep, then turned his head, and started to murmur.

"Look, Gibbs ... I, I just ..." Then when Tony couldn't bring himself to speak the words in English, he switched languages. He had been too uncomfortable with the emotion he felt, and gave himself the distance he needed by changing tongues.

"Grazie, Gibbs. Farò ... farò debitori per sempre. Così, grazie. Lei vuol ... vi sono ... lo vi amo,

Papà."

Gibbs knew next to no Italian, but he knew enough to understand the last bit. Whatever was between him and Tony could now never be undone. In that moment Gibbs felt the same way he had the first moment he held Kelly. From that point on DiNozzo was his son, and heaven help whoever thought they could break them.

**

* * *

Translation:** Thank you, Gibbs. I will … I will owe you forever. So, thank you. You mean ... you are ... I love you, Dad.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N:** First off, to all you beautiful people who reviewed and got me to 200, you rock my socks! And those of you to whom I haven't replied yet, I totally will. But a large chunk of this week has been spent nannying three children all day and all night, and I confess the muse has been spending her energy coming up with ways to keep them entertained. So this chapter is short, and I've lacked the time to get back to all of you. But don't worry, it's totally gonna happen. Thanks so much to all of you, you're great!

* * *

Gibbs came back from his contemplative coffee run to the bullpen and found McGee petrified, Ziva laughing, and Tony looking like he'd just had the best idea _ever_. It was always a dangerous combination for the three of them.

"Boss!" Tony started. "We've got this great plan!"

"No!" McGee interrupted. "It's not a great plan! It's not even a good plan! It's a _bad _plan, a bad, bad plan!"

Tony quirked an eyebrow at McGee and grinned, "Seriously? 'Bad, bad plan' is the best you've got? And they pay you to write?"

McGee attempted to sputter something back at Tony, but DiNozzo had already moved on. "McGee got a hit on the photo Ziva took of Mae's less than friendly neighbors. Apparently Buzz Cut and Dumb Muscle are both members of the Corp, and both belong to a white supremacist organization called Maryland White Pride."

"DiNozzo, what would be the names their parents gave them?"

Tony shot Gibbs a sheepish grin, knowing that Gibbs wasn't really asking about proper nouns as much as he was trying to rein Tony back in from his excited rambling. Tony tried, he really did, to put back on his professional face, but he was too excited. Gibbs could only assume it was about the 'bad, bad plan.' So Tony continued his sitrep with slightly fervor. "Buzz Cut is Private First Class Harper Morgan, 25, spent the last seven years in the Corp. He was promoted to the rank of Corporal two years into his service, but was demoted due to insubordination to a superior officer."

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow and Tony continued with a slight smirk, "His superior officer was Black. Buzz cut had never dealt with non-White personnel in the Corp before he was promoted, so none of his higher ups knew about the prejudice. He exchanged some barbs with his Sergeant and got busted back to Private First Class about a month after his promotion.

"As for Dumb Muscle, he was Private Harry Green, 23. He spent two years in the Corp in Buzz Cut's unit, but his insubordination to officers of a different color came with, as it's put in his file, 'anger management issues'. Reading in between the lines, it looks like he not only shouted some racial epithets to Buzz Cut's new commanding officer, but also threw some punches. Buzz Cut got demoted, and Dumb Muscle got discharged."

"What's their tie to Max?"

"Both our marines are members of Maryland White Pride, but Max isn't. However, Max belongs to Maryland Community Defenders, which has strong ties to Maryland White Pride. According to the FBI, the Community Defenders are just the more socially acceptable branch of White Pride, and their meetings typically function as one."

"That's a loose connection, DiNozzo." It wasn't though. They'd hunted men with less of a connection simply because Gibbs' gut demanded it, and now Tony's gut demanded the same respect. They all knew that so long as Tony's plan didn't involve one of them getting shot, Gibbs would let Tony go through with it, and now he was just giving Tony the chance to indulge in a little drama.

"That's where the brilliant plan comes in, Boss." McGee muttered something under his breath that sounded like a rather insolent, '_stupid plan,_' but Tony ignored him. "White Pride has a meeting scheduled for tonight. We send someone in undercover with credentials from an affiliated White Pride from a different state, and they do some poking around."

"Poking around! How am I supposed to poke around? Just hope they have cages in the basement and Eli's in one of them?" Ah, now Gibbs understood why McGee had looked so terrified. This would be McGee's first undercover op, and it would require delicacy and intuition, things usually tested out on smaller ops before an agent was sent into a situation where that's all they had.

"You're not going to stumble across Eli, Probie. You're just going to make nice, not get noticed, and see if Max talks to Buzz and Dumb. If anyone should mention something about having a marine stashed in their closet, then swell. If not, no big. We just need proof that there's a connection between these two parties."

"A connection between the parties doesn't prove they took Eli!"

McGee was rapidly dissolving into full freak out mode, and unless they got him calmed quickly, he'd pass the point where he'd be any good to them undercover. "No Probie, it doesn't. But we need that connection to see if we're heading down the right path." Tony said it in a calm tone, knowingly wrangling Tim back from the edge he was tap-dancing towards.

"And if Max doesn't even show up? Or if we're wrong?"

Tony clapped McGee on the back and just said, "He will." with a smile.

"But if he doesn't?"

"Well then, Probie, our prime suspect is the FBI." That stark reality was enough to calm Tim back down, stripping him of any desire for Tony to be wrong and McGee to not have to go undercover. It couldn't be Tony or Ziva because other than being Italian and Jewish, the suspects had already seen them. And it couldn't be Gibbs, because Max was far more likely to talk to a young professional instead of a grizzled marine. McGee stuck out his chin and they all knew he'd do it, even though he'd rather spend the night curled up in his apartment writing about someone going undercover rather than doing it himself.

XXXXXXX

Tony stuck his head into Ducky's office and started chanting, "Mae. Maybe. May Pole. Mayfly. April showers bring May flowers. May-"

Mae's eyes shot up from a rather intense part of her book to shout, "Yes Tony! How may I help you?"

"Ah, nothin'. Just wanted to see how you were doing." Mae moved to smack Tony with her book, but Tony ducked gracefully out of the way. Mae'd settled back in to Ducky's office after lunch, busying herself with a copy of the Deep Six sequel while she stayed in the building so Gibbs would keep an eye on her.

"How's McGee?"

Tony picked up her feet and sat down the edge of the sofa, resting her feet back on his lap. "Abs and Ziva are playing dress up with him, so right now he's mortified, but he'll be fine."

She fidgeted a moment before tucking the bookmark in her place and whispering, "I'm sorry about this, Tonio."

"Kiddo, don't start acting like this whole thing is your fault. So what if you have crazy neighbors? It happens. Yours just turned out to be legitimately crazy instead of the usual, 'gets mad when you make noise after 8:00 pm' sort of crazy."

Mae giggled at the description, easily assured by Tony's words that everything would work out. Tony's devilish grin grew as he continued, "Or, remember Mrs. Grey? Having her for a neighbor again might be worse than the kidnappers." Mae tried to not snicker and encourage him, but Tony was on a roll. "Remember her gnome village? Their little lawn gnome houses, and the gnome lake! And how one of the gardeners had to go out every night and move the gnomes around so Mrs. Grey could pretend they'd come alive at night and done it themselves!"

By this point Mae was laughing too hard to properly speak, but she added, "Remember when Michael from down the street made a Godzilla gnome and ransacked the village?"

Tony added, "Of course I remember! I had to perform gnome emergency surgery to put them all together again!"

Slowly the giggles subsided and the cousins paused in the silence. "You're happy here, aren't you?"

Tony had been expecting the question ever since she stepped off the elevator, and he answered honestly. "Yeah Mae, I really am."

"Dad _is_ getter better."

"Getting better doesn't make him a good man, Mae."

"I know, Tonio. But some of us don't have the luxury of adopting a new father." Tony fought the urge to snort. Mae was genuinely good, if still rather young, but she still had _so much _of her father in her. Eli would be spending at least the next decade breaking Mae of the notion that her father's method of emotional blackmail was an acceptable way to get people to agree with you.

"He's not my father, Mae." She _didn't_ hold back her snort, or her, "Sure, Tonio."

So, despite the fact that anyone else would tell Tony he didn't owe her a thing, Tony tried to explain a relationship that had always defied description. "Some days he is, I'll admit, but not always. He was a dad a whole lot more at the beginning, when I needed that support, and someone to answer to. But now he's only a dad when I desperately need it, or when he needs a son."

Tony's hand gestures got more intense as he struggled to explain, the words not coming quite right. "Now, sometimes he's just my mentor, but we haven't been that impersonal in a while. Usually he's a brother, or a best friend, or, well... it's just, mutable." The words didn't convey Gibbs. Like if Gibbs was going to ignore them, then they'd ignore him too.

"He's Boss. He's _Gibbs_. That's the best I've got." Tony finally looked at her, and there was an unaccountable sadness in her eyes.

"You're never coming home, are you?"

Tony reached out and cupped her cheek, running his thumb along her cheekbone and the fading bruise still there. "I _am_ home, kiddo."


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Thank you to all the people who review and say how much they like this story. I got a couple of rather cruel words over this weekend, and it's surprising how easy it is to rather delete the whole thing and never look back after people complain about you. But then, I read the reviews, and I don't mind the harsh words quite so much. Still stings, but not enough to make me want to abandon you, so thanks for that. Ya'll mean a lot.

* * *

McGee tugged again nervously at the cuffs of his moderately priced leather jacket. (Tony had borrowed this one from one of the other agents on the floor, despite Tim's protestations that he had one of his own. Abby pointed out that most of the people at this function would be more Sears folk than $500 calf-skin jacket folk, and 'didn't he want to fit in?'. McGee had willingly turned every aspect of his attire over to Abby after that point.)

Tim was still safely sheltered in the NCIS tech van, which was ensconced in the garage, and tucked in the Navy Yard. Really, at this moment McGee couldn't be any safer if he was wrapped in bubble wrap.

And that was the problem.

In all his time with undercover agents, Tony had found two ways that actually got someone properly prepped for a dangerous op. Either the agent could soak themselves in adrenaline, getting hopped up on the rush, and ignoring what made up their original personality in the face of the high. (Which was basically the logic behind all Tony's bad life choices during his Freshman year at college.) The problem with that was dealing with the impromptu decisions you made on the high after you've come down.

Or, the agent could go with dissociation. It was a trickier state to achieve, with an almost complete divide between who you really were and who you were pretending to be. The only drawback was how wretchedly hard it was to maintain the line in the your mind between you and him, because if you didn't, then you started to flay yourself alive for decisions made by that part of your personality while in full possession of your faculties.

McGee _had_ to be the second type of undercover. He wasn't nearly reckless enough to pull off the adrenaline rush needed to successfully be the first kind. But McGee was getting himself hopped up on the nerves, terrified about something going wrong, and those nerves were the exact opposite of what he needed. He needed to stand up there, completely calm, as though he were a man with nothing to be nervous about.

Tony and McGee were sitting in the truck, waiting for Gibbs and Ziva to make their way down from whatever was distracting them in the bullpen so they could put McGee in his undercover car and they could drive over to the meeting. Tony kicked out his feet and rested them on the console across from him, catching the little flinch McGee couldn't contain at Tony using a sophisticated piece of government technology as a footrest.

He pulled out his cell and went to his game a of Tetris, knowing that keeping his vision off McGee would make this seem like a conversation triggered by their boredom, not a planned pep talk. Tony kept his mouth shut until he completed his tenth line, then asked, "So Probster, whatcha nervous about?"

"What am I- what am I nervous about? It's my first undercover op Tony, what do you think I'm nervous about?"

Tony went so far as to pause his game so he could properly glare at McGee for that one. "First off, don't do a Gibbs when you're freaking out, you can't pull it off. Second, what are you nervous _about,_ about the op."

He kept glaring until McGee started to speak, then turned his attention back to the cell phone game. "I'm worried I'll get made and mess it up." McGee said it with a rather snide, 'that was a _stupid_ question, Tony' sort of tone, but at least he was talking.

"No you're not."

"What do you mean, I'm not! Am too!"

Tony spared a smirk at McGee descending a schoolyard retort and replied, "That's far too vague a fear for your hyperactive brain, Probie. So tell me, what horrible fate are you seeing that's making you so nervous?"

McGee just fidgeted, so Tony continued without him. "Let me guess, you're worried you'll get made and we won't make it in in time to stop you from getting shot?" Tony paused to let the half-truth hang in the air a moment, then plowed on. "Nah, you wouldn't be afraid of that, you know better. You know that these aren't murdering in cold blood sort of men. You might get a little smacked around before we get to you, but nothing major, and nothing that would stop you from coming in to the office tomorrow looking badass with your first bruises from the ranks of the undercover."

McGee kept his eyes down, ignoring the fact that Tony was no longer playing his game, but just watching him fidget. "No, you're too selfless for any of these worries to be about you getting hurt." McGee's head shot up at that, with him staring at Tony in bafflement. Tony just shrugged one shoulder in a 'well, it's you.'

"You're not nervous that you'll blow the op, 'cause then at least we'd know it had gone wrong. You're nervous that you'll do just bad enough to make them twitchy, so that when we find Eli, we'll find him dead 'cause they got so nervous." The fidgety tugging down by Tim on his jacket front meant that Tony had nailed it on the head.

In his mind, Tony ran through about four jokes and three stories before settling on the harsh truth. "That fear's never gonna go away. Every op you go on, you'll always be terrified that somehow you'll get the victim killed, or one of your partners, or even just some innocent walking by on the street. There are ops when the best possible outcome in your mind will be your blood on the pavement, just so it's no one else's. Sometimes, you'd rather than the bullet be in you than the bad guy."

Neither man was looking at the other. McGee's gaze was firmly on the flashing lights of the computer console in front of him, and Tony's was on the phone he was turning over in his hands. But neither of them was really seeing what was in front of them. "But that fear, that mind-numbing, want to throw up at the thought, can barely breathe terror, that's what makes you good. The day you walk into an op and you're not scared out of your mind for the damage you might do, that's the day you never go undercover again. You have to care about the fallout Probie, 'cause if you don't, you get sloppy, and that's when people get killed.

"I can't promise you that it'll never go wrong, we've all see how it can get blown to high heaven, but I _can_ promise you that the days it goes right, the days you bring people home, those make the hell worth it."

The van door slid open, and if Ziva and Gibbs noticed the heavy air to the room, they didn't mention it. McGee got his final orders and hopped to his car for the night. He turned and met Tony's eye for a moment before climbing in, and that was all the thanks he needed.

XXXXXXX

McGee had been exchanging pleasantries with the higher classes at the party for the last hour. The whole place felt sort of like a junior high dance, only with the room divided down the middle by class instead of gender. One half of the meeting hall held strictly the members of Maryland White Pride, while the other half (the half where McGee was camped out) held Maryland Community Defenders. There were a few people who roamed freely from one side to the other, and the occasional bundles of people who met in the middle, but for the most part they managed complete segregation.

One of the few people who successfully flitted across both sides was Max Young, the man McGee was here to observe. He seemed perfectly friendly, clean cut, and innocently charming enough that everyone regarded him as some mix of youngest son and baby brother. The more Tim watched him, the more Max didn't look like the sort of guy who would abduct a soldier, no matter what his ethnicity. McGee began to spin theories to himself about Max being blackmailed by Buzz Cut and Dumb Muscle, and not being an active participant in the abduction.

Tony had explained to McGee while McGee pretended to be put out by the advice that he lapped up, that one of his favorite ways to get information about someone was to take your questions to a third party and feign being impressed, and that's the method Tim tried. Somehow he'd lucked into a circle of grad students and intellectuals, all of who waved at Max as he walked by. McGee steeled himself for the real reason he was here, and tried to sound idly curious. "Who's that?

The quite lovely blonde next to him replied with more than a hint of a crush, "Oh, that's Max. He's a surgeon at a local hospital. He's a great guy. He's actually won the Member of the Year Award like four times. He volunteers at a free clinic near his hospital, and he's the first call most of the members make when someone in their families gets injured. He takes care of a lot of our poorer members, taking things like homemade bread for payment rather than forcing them to get insurance."

"Really?" McGee's shock must not have had the appropriate amount of awe, because the girl looked mildly affronted on Max's behalf. McGee floundered at his misstep and tried to go forward with a slightly twisted take on the truth, hoping that would justify his mistake.

"I've got a friend at work who's the only other person I've met who's that comfortable talking to everyone. He's a salesman. I guess I've just always associated that ease with his sort of profession, and never thought about it applying to anyone else." The girl mistook Tim's blush at the lie for actually being about the snap judgment, and she took pity on him.

She grasped Tim's hand and pulled him across the room, saying, "Let's introduce you, and then you'll know two." A rather large part of Tim's brain had a full-blown panic at the thought of walking up to one of their suspects and introducing himself without the protection of his badge, but the girl kept tugging. McGee tried to remind himself that he wasn't McGee right now, he was someone else. Tim McGee liked the clearly defined boundaries of his work, but the man he was for tonight didn't have those boundaries. The man he was now thought Max was a leader in their community and would be thrilled with the chance to speak with him, and McGee tried to tap into that.

Max saw the girl coming with a slightly embarrassed McGee in tow, and broke off his conversation to meet them. "Well hello, Janie." The blonde threw her arms around Max, then pulled back to make introductions.

"Dr. Maxwell Young, this is Timothy Grey. He's a computer programmer for the government, and just transferred here from California."

Max stuck out his hand and gave Tim and kind grin, "Pleasure to meet you, Timothy."

"Please, just Tim." McGee returned the smile and found it easy to give.

"Then I suppose I'll have to be just Max." He was funny, smart, and an Elf Lord a few degrees above Tim. The whole conversation came so easily that Tim had no trouble being the man he was supposed to be. Eventually Max sat down with Tim (the girl having long since scampered off to chat with people who paid attention to her), and they spent the next hour just chatting. By the end of it McGee had completely lost track of time, and was certain that Max was somehow a pawn in the plot and couldn't have had anything to do with the actual abduction.

Just as McGee was sure beyond any reasonable doubt, Buzz Cut and Dumb Muscle burst into the party, making a beeline for Max. His smile was gracious and friendly, just like it had been with everyone else at the party, but with a new edge to it, warning them away from having any sort of discussion with him. Buzz Cut gave McGee a once over and immediately dismissed him as no one of any consequence and focused on Max. "We need to talk."

"I'm in the middle of a conversation right now, but I'm sure we can discuss your problem later."

"No, we need to talk NOW!" Buzz Cut's voice rose, garnering attention from nearby members, but upon seeing the indulgent smile from Max they all turned back to their conversations. It seemed temper tantrums were something Buzz Cut was known for, and Max was the one who usually cleaned them up. To McGee that was a perfect explanation for why the two marine suspects would've turned up at Max's apartment, and still kept him free from wrongdoing.

Max quirked an eyebrow at Buzz Cut and calmly said, "I can't imagine there's-"

"He's bleeding. A lot."

Max shot a quick glance at Tim, who was studiously pretending to be texting while his new friend carried on an un-eavesdropped-upon conversation, and rose to his feet, pulling Buzz Cut away from the table. "How?" He whispered.

"He tried to escape again, and we made sure he didn't."

"You mean you beat him to within an inch of his life so he couldn't make it out." McGee truly was texting, but it wasn't the light-hearted conversation he pretended it was by gently smiling at his screen, it was a transcript of the conversation between the men, just in case his wire wasn't picking up the whispers. McGee braced himself, knowing that any second the team would burst through the hall doors to arrest their conspirators, and McGee took that spare moment to shove down the pain that he'd gotten Max wrong.

The whole arrest went surprisingly smoothly, with occasional shouting from the other guests, an attempt by Dumb Muscle to break free (Ziva punched him so hard that McGee swore he could see the tweety birds flying in a circle around his head like in a cartoon), Buzz Cut and Max knowing better that to try anything at the sight of Gibbs, and a slap to McGee's face by the pretty girl Tim had spent the first half of the night with.

When they split up to head back for interrogations, Tony knew that McGee needed time to come back to himself after this, time to redraw the boundary lines in his head, and told Gibbs he'd be driving McGee back to the yard. Gibbs understood, and McGee didn't question it when Tony seized his keys, and just stared out the window for half the drive back, letting Tony rest through the silence. Eventually Tim managed to bring himself to mutter, "I liked him."

Tony released a deep sigh and whispered back, "I'm sorry."

"It… it would've been easy to…"

'Easy to turn' were the words McGee couldn't bring himself to say, but Tony understood. McGee didn't truly mean it would be easy in this instance, but now he better understood the pull to turn at all. "Yeah, I know."

"How did you come back, ya know, after?"

Tony tightened his grip on the steering wheel, but for Tim he would find a way to verbalize it. "I know who I am. The good, the bad, I know all of it. Being Tonio was a lie, and I knew it. Nights when I spent my time at their house, I was exhausted, through my bones and straight down to my soul. Nights when I was out being a cop, I was me, and despite the chasing criminals through the streets, and the getting shot, beaten up, and knifed, I was never as tired as I was after spending a night eating good food at their dinner table. You just gotta find a way to tell the difference between the truth and the lie."

McGee twitched, feeling like a lout for the question he desperately wanted to ask, but Tony answered before he had to go so far as to verbalize it. "Jeanne wasn't exhausting by the end. That lie became a truth, not the whole truth, 'cause I wasn't really DiNardo, but pretty damn close."

Tim let the pregnant silence sit for a few minutes as they made their way to the yard, but finally made himself speak as they pulled in to their parking space. "I'm sorry you went through that alone, Tony."

DiNozzo just smirked and clapped Tim on the back, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, Probie. And sometimes, not being dead is all you've got."


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Apologies for the shortness of this chapter. We're moving, and RL has been demanding excessive amounts of attention. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Ziva had been given Dumb Muscle in Interrogation Room #1. Gibbs left her alone in there with him, and gave her free reign to do whatever she had to do (minus bodily harm) to get him to give up Eli's location. The plan was to piss dumb Muscle off to the point that he'd start screaming the location at her, and then they'd head out. Gibbs would worry about getting full confessions later, if he felt like it. With Eli's testimony the confessions, and the deals for reduced sentences that came with them, wouldn't come into play, and that's how Gibbs wanted it.

He also wanted Tony nowhere near the observation room. Partly because Tony would take every jab at Ziva like it was his own fault she was getting insulted and the guilt would make him needlessly sweet to her for the next few weeks. But mostly it was because Gibbs wanted the freedom to go postal, and he couldn't do that with Tony watching. Not that Tony would stop Gibbs, he'd actually be more likely to hold back Dumb Muscle so Gibbs could get a clear punch. No, Gibbs just didn't want the lawyers to somehow turn it into Tony's fault should Gibbs break.

Which was how Tony and McGee ended up sitting on the floor of the hallway outside observation, not at all patiently waiting for Gibbs to give them something to do. McGee liked to be still when he was waiting, while Tony liked to burst into 75 different directions at once. He'd readjusted his tie, sent four test messages, paced the hallway for three minutes, and bought two candy bars from the bending machine, all in the minute span of time Gibbs and Ziva had been with Dumb Muscle. Really, Tim was about thirty seconds of pacing or one monologue on the best waiting room scene away from up and leaving Tony to his own devices.

XXXXXXX

Dumb Muscle had kept repeating his refusal to speak from the moment Ziva strode into the room alone and asked, "Do you know why you're here?" He had replied with some unimaginative combination of insult to her womanhood and ancestry, and how both made her unworthy to interrogate him.

Ziva was not impressed, and told him as much. Dumb didn't seem to remember his vow of silence in the face of her insult to his intelligence, and simply began spewing more bile. She let him go for a minute or so, just pulling out her cell phone and playing one of the numerous puzzle games Tony had downloaded on her behalf the last time he was bored.

As she knew it would, ignoring the man sent him into a renewed frenzy of shouting, culminating in, "Bitch! Pay attention when I'm talking to you!"

Ziva spared him a glance long enough to say, "But you're not talking _to_ me, you're shouting racial epithets to reaffirm your manhood while you are in a position that you perceive to be demeaning. Any reply on my part is not required."

She paused a moment to be sure that Dumb now understood that yelling would do him no good, but with a, "What the f***" he was off again. Ziva merely sighed and turned her attention back to her game. She took a moment to be profoundly grateful that Gibbs had made Tony wait in the hall with McGee. By this point Ziva was certain it was taking most of Gibbs' willpower to keep _himself_ restrained, and to do the same for Tony would have been beyond his skill. Left to his own devices Tony would've waited just long enough for McGee to disable the cameras, then he'd burst into the room and threaten Dumb with a combination of his fists and that personality shift they'd seen yesterday.

But instead, she got to wait patiently for this fool to reach the point where his anger was pliable. Actually, when she thought about it that way she was quite grateful that she was the one under fire while Tony kept that piece of himself buried. The assassin her appreciated the chance to help someone else control their dark bits.

Ziva waited to attack until the moment his yelling lacked logical construction. When he was just spewing whatever popped into his head, with no real thought about what was coming from one phrase to the next, let alone the next sentence. That's what she wanted, his thoughts haphazard and his controlling fraying, and now that it was, she pounced.

Under her breath she muttered something, which caused the penned up man to shout, "What? You talkin' to me? You got something to say to me bitch, you _say it_!"

She looked up at him with a sigh and a glare that said, 'now _that_, was entirely unnecessary,' but aloud she replied, "I said, I knew I should've gone with Gibbs to interview Morgan."

He sneered back at her, "Morgan would've had you crying by now."

"Exactly."

He drew back at that, as though he'd been struck and mumbled, "Why would you want to be crying?"

She sighed at him again, threatening his ego with her demeaning behavior and said, "I wouldn't _actually_ be crying," 'you idiot' was left unspoken, but implied. "But Morgan is obviously the one with actual answers, and you're just the dumb muscle."

"I have answers!"

Ziva actually snorted at him this time, though it wasn't merely because the situation demanded it. All the interrogations she'd been in, both of common criminals and terrorists, and it never ceased to amaze her how easily someone would cave to make the arresting officer think better of them. (Of course, there would always be variable definitions of better, but to Dumb Muscle, better meant clever.)

"You have answers about things like food and housing, those are not the sort of answers we need."

"I have answers about other stuff!" He sounded almost desperate to be more than the stupid one in the relationship, nearly pleading with her to think he was worth talking to. His angst had nothing at all to do with Ziva, but everything to do with a lifetime of being told he was too stupid to be of any real use.

"You don't have the answers we're looking for."

"I. do. too!"

"Fine then. What condition is the First Lieutenant in?"

He sputtered in response, obviously not quite wanting to discuss that bit yet. Ziva gestured in irritation and said, "See? No answers."

"I don't know!"

"How do you not know?"

"We've been keeping him sedated, but then Max stopped bringing the drugs, 'cause he didn't want to get caught sneaking them from the hospital. So the guy woke up, and he's been trying to escape. Morgan got, well, he got pissed about that, so he hit the guy. A lot."

"How badly was he bleeding when you left him?"

"He was still awake, and talking, but Morgan got him pretty good with a lamp, and his head was bleeding. We didn't want him to die, so we went after Max."

Ziva nodded along, as though the whole mess made perfect sense to her, and slid her notebook forward. "I'll need the address where you're keeping him." He hesitated for a moment, and Ziva prodded, "Head wounds are dangerous, he needs a doctor." When he still paused, she encouraged him with, "Don't become a murderer. Not for him. Not for this." And with that, he picked up the pen.

Ziva waited patiently for him to finish writing, as though she wasn't strung out at the thought of Tony's friend lying in a puddle of blood somewhere. She gave him a moment, just a moment, to finish writing, then plucked the pad out of his hand and slammed through the door.

XXXXXXX

From what he'd heard of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Max knew he'd be irate if he knew there were NCIS agents discussing his ongoing case where prisoners could hear. Especially when those prisoners were being held in regards to said case. Because those loose lips were how Max knew everything was going to plan.

Morgan heard the agents as well, and whispered to Max from the cell next door, "I told you Harry would crack."

Max just smirked, and replied, "That's why I let you involve him. Harry never needed to stand up to an interrogation, he just needed to stand by your side and throw a punch when you asked him to. He's served his purpose beautifully."

Morgan stood up and strolled over to the bars separating them and asked, "What's the plan now?"

Max grinned, with a wicked glint in his eyes that Morgan prayed would never be directed at him. But he didn't answer the question. Morgan gave him a minute, then moved to ask again, but Max held up a hand to delay him.

That's when Morgan heard it, the sound of lawyer down the hall, shouting that his clients be released.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N:** I got my life back! I hope that's reflected in the writing and this chapter is more up to snuff than the last. Also, now that life has come back to me, I swear I will reply to EVERY review you've sent. I will! I know they're coming exceptionally late to the game for those of you sweet enough to review the last few chapters, but they'll come nonetheless, that's how grateful I am to you. Hope your Mondays are all good, and thanks for reading!

And just FYI: _italics_ in this chapter indicate what someone's saying on the other end of a phone line.

* * *

Gibbs drove like, well... Gibbs.

Not for the first time, Tony spared a thought for the benefits of a team vacation to Europe, just so Gibbs and Ziva would have the chance to drive on the Autobahn where they couldn't get threatened with arrest for driving so fast it felt like they were trying to break the sound barrier. Despite maintaining his occasional _pro forma_ protests, Tony hadn't truly felt nervous with Gibbs behind the wheel of a car for years.

If asked, Tony'd say it was because he'd born witness to how surely Gibbs handled his vehicle, but really it was because you couldn't trust a man like Tony trusted Gibbs and be unsure about something so small as driving. (That, and Gibbs drove like he thought the car was some halfway indestructible Transformer, and the fourteen-year-old boy in Tony had to respect that.)

But on this occasion, no one would have bought a protest about Gibbs' speed anyway. All of them silently gripped their various handles and seat edges as Gibbs dashed his car around corners and through red lights, keeping to themselves any prayers that they wouldn't all end up in a twisted heap of metal. They had a bleeding marine waiting for them, a bleeding friend to one of their own, and they had save him.

If pushed, each one of them would list a different moment they became enough of a family that they bled for one another and their individual pains out of love, not duty; but the truth of their relationship remained the same. To Tony, Ziva didn't officially join up the moment he let an assassin beat him almost senseless to buy her time, but rather, it was four hours later when she could recite the number of times he'd been hit. That little proof that she'd cared was enough to convince Tony she belonged with them. To Ziva it had been the moment she felt the sting of Tony's teasing while they were trapped in the metal cargo container. She didn't realize how far she'd let them all in until they could do damage to her, which was nestled too deep to try and throw them out and still stay in DC. To dear, tenderhearted McGee, he waited to get attached again until Gibbs told him that Ziva was there to stay. In the middle of the same box incident that changed Ziva's perception, Gibbs told a panicking McGee that Gibbs would _know_ if Tony and Ziva were dead. That was the sign McGee had been waiting for, the permission from the Boss to open his heart back up.

The team was driving to a rental house, paid for in cash by withdrawals that matched sums from Dumb Muscle's bank account. The correlating deposits to his account had been made in cash, so Ziva would need to go another round with him in interrogation to find out where the money supposedly came from.

As of right now, their paper trail only led to Muscle, and his testimony was the single thing linking Buzz Cut and Max to the abduction. Eli would hopefully be able to place the other two as part of the conspiracy, but the cynic in the back of Tony's mind was nervous about how well the bad guys had coordinated this. If he hadn't been careening through the city to find out if Eli was even still alive, Tony might've had the time to be more concerned, but for now, he shoved the little red flags out of his mind.

They reached the house in Gibbs Standard Time (meaning ten minutes faster than was generally considered safe) and all flowed out of the car and to their regularly appointed positions. Tony and Gibbs went to the front door while Ziva and McGee went to the back, both teams checking for possible alternate exits along their way. They were almost positive no one was there, but they'd almost been blown sky high too many times to not follow protocol when entering unsecured territory.

After the standard pounding on the door and announcing their presence, Tony kicked open the front door and heard the answering echo as Ziva entered through the back. Room by room they cleared the small, tidy house, eventually reaching the basement stairs, and Tony almost groaned at the cliché of it. Just once he'd like to find someone abducted and tied up in the sun room, or at least the attic. Just for creativity's sake.

The basement door was locked so Tony kicked that in as well, unleashing a puff of air carrying the rancid stench of congealed blood. Tony sprinted down the stairs, nearly abandoning his training in search of a battered Eli.

It looked like Muscle had been telling the truth. Eli was curled up in a corner, still conscious but slipping. The floor was littered with the shattered remains of a lamp, and though Tony suspected that Eli had one devil of a headache and more of a concussion than they would like, he would be all right. He was heading into unconsciousness due to the pain and a titch too much blood loss after not eating well for the last few days, but not bleeding nearly enough to be life threatening. The paramedics would be there any moment, and after a short hospital stay (more to appease Mae than anything), Eli would be fine.

Tony made his way straight to Eli and kept his voice calm as he lifted him off the floor and reassured, "Don't worry, Eli. Everything's going to be fine. We've got you now."

Eli struggled to focus on Tony's face for a moment, finally croaking out, "Tony? Why are _you_ here?"

"You're a marine, Eli. It's what we do." Tony had answered with a chuckle, but the smile on his face faded as Eli's wheels continued to spin. "What's wrong?"

Eli swallowed a few times to get his vocal chords back in working order but replied, "Why didn't the FBI come?"

Tony glanced up to Gibbs for the briefest of moments, just long enough for Gibbs to give him some signal if he wanted to direct Tony's response, but he didn't. Gibbs left the questioning entirely to Tony while the rest of the team worked the scene. "Who knows why the FBI does anything Eli. I've stopped trying to figure 'em out."

The paramedics tumbled in while Eli was still putting pieces together, but their glares didn't deter Tony from asking questions, or Eli from wanting to answer them. "What can you tell me about your abductors?"

With one medic buzzing about checking the responsiveness of his pupils and the other dabbing at the slice on his head, Eli managed to summon enough focus away from them to reply, "There were three. One of them was a big guy, burly, with a deep voice, and he's the only one who spoke. There was a second one who occasionally came to help the first one, and he seemed more in charge, but I never heard him speak properly, and they were always wearing ski masks."

"Which one took a lamp to your skull?"

Eli closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to remember, but nothing helped. "I don't know. They were both behind me when I got hit, and I don't know which one did it."

"You mentioned _three_ kidnappers?"

Eli nodded his head slightly, stopping at the irritated growl of the paramedic, and answered verbally instead. "Yeah. I could hear people carrying on conversations upstairs. Not enough to make out words, or recognize who was speaking, but there were times when I heard three different voices."

"Are you sure one of them wasn't just a neighbor dropping by?"

Eli shot Tony a withering look, which was rather impressive considering the bandage of white gauze crowning his head would've made him look rather foolish under other circumstances. "It wasn't the voice of a little old lady bringing them cookies, Tony. I recognized the tone of voice. It was the same one my Drill Sergeant pulled out before someone spent the next month cleaning the head with a toothbrush. Number Three was handing out orders, and got irate that they weren't being followed properly."

Tony nodded at the surety in Eli's voice and continued. "You don't look like you've been beaten the last few days..."

"No. Just the occasional tackle when the Big Guy got jumpy and thought I was trying to run off while he brought me bread and water, but other than that I've been pretty much ignored."

"So why the lamp?"

Eli shook his head in confusion and muttered, "I have no idea. The second guy usually only joined the big guy once a day, just enough to check on the big guy's work, make sure the knots were still good and things like that, and he never spoke. But tonight, he went postal. He started screaming at me about 'disrespecting him' and other nonsense, then he grabbed me by the back of the neck and hauled me up. As odd as the sudden flare of temper was, what was even stranger was guy number two trying to mask his voice."

"What do you mean?"

"He was pitching it lower than was his natural range. I don't know how deep his voice was supposed to be, but he had that strained sound that comes from sending your voice lower than it's supposed to go."

Tony nodded along, taking notes, and prodded Eli. "So, Number Two comes in with Big Guy, Number Two starts yelling, and hauls you to your feet. Then what?"

"Big Guy started yelling at Number Two, telling him 'this wasn't part of the plan.' They started shoving one another, I got pulled into it, and somehow got turned around in the scuffle and shoved towards the wall with my back to the both of them. That's when I got hit."

"Can you think of anything else they might've said during the fight that would help us? Maybe mentioned another name?"

Eli paused and thought the whole melee through, finally pronouncing, "No, not anything I can think of."

Tony grinned at Eli, finally leaving him to enjoy the care of the paramedics in peace. Tony strode over to Gibbs, knowing full well that though he'd been taking pictures, he'd been paying more attention to the interview. Ziva and McGee stepped over from their tasks as well, wanting to be a part of the quiet conversation.

"Looks like Max stayed out of the basement, while Morgan kept quiet, and the both of them left Harry to do the heavy lifting. Eli has no way of identifying the two of them as his other captors, and we have no proof."

Judging by his furrow, Gibbs wasn't liking this lack of information any more than Tony. "McGee," Gibbs spat out, "call another team to help process and then get back to bagging and tagging. I want every fingerprint and piece of trace in this whole damn building. We need forensics to link the other two to this mess. Ziva, finish your measurements and sketching then help McGee. DiNozzo,-" But before Gibbs could hand out those orders, his phone rang.

He gave it an irritated flick open, and answered with a terse, "Gibbs."

"_Jethro, I do hate to interrupt you when you're at a scene, but we have a bit of complication here."_ To the casual listener Ducky would've sounded no more than mildly put out by whatever was going on, but Gibbs knew that tone for what it was: almost scared at how Gibbs was going to react.

Gibbs didn't bother to verbally respond, knowing that Ducky knew him better than to expect it. _"Ah yes, well… it seems that our dear Director Sheppard has agreed to the FBI's demands to release Mr. Young and Mr. Morgan to their care."_ The team didn't know what Ducky said, but they saw the thin vein on Gibb's forehead start to throb and got nervous.

"_Lovely Abigail has informed me that apparently there's been a … _glitch _in the computer system slowing down the computer and preventing the necessary transfer of custody files. Director Sheppard is less than pleased with the delay, but for all of Abigail's attempts, the computer simply won't speed up." _

The team all gave an unconscious step backwards at the growl from Gibbs. They couldn't hear what Ducky was saying that had him so riled up, but they heard Gibbs ask, "How long?"

"_She says she can give you half an hour. Maybe less if The Director forces her hand."_ With a snap, Gibbs closed the phone and started for the stairs at a dash.

"Boss?" Tony called while immediately following behind. Ziva and McGee did the same, listening to Gibbs' barely controlled explanation as he made his way to the car.

"The_ Director_" Gibbs began, voice dripping with disdain, "saw fit to release our other kidnappers to the FBI. Duck called to tell us that Abby infected the computer system to slow down the transfer, but they can only buy us so much time." Gibbs jumped in the car, pausing only to shout, "McGee, get that other team out here! And Ziva, don't let Eli out of your sight!" Tony hopped in the car with Gibbs, and no one thought to question it.

Before Gibbs even got the engine started, Tony was on his own phone, frantically dialing Maeve and willing her to pick up. Tony was wound so tight he nearly vibrated off his seat, then Mae finally answered. _"Tonio, if you're interrupting the climax of this book to-"_

"Mae! Are you alright?"

"_Tonio? Of course I'm all right! What's wrong?"_

Tony paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself back down and relish the fact she was safe for now. "Mae, I need you to go to the autopsy doors and press the biohazard button. With the biohazard alert on, no one will be able to get into autopsy until you unlock the door. Then I want you go into Ducky's office and lock that door too. Stay in there and read your book until I call you again."

"_Tonio, what's going on?" _There was fear in her voice, but Tony could hear her footsteps echoing about autopsy as she headed to the doors.

"We've got Eli, Mae." She tried to break in, but Tony kept talking. "He's got a mild concussion, but he'll fine. But that's not what I'm worried about. Two of the kidnappers are being transferred to the custody of the FBI."

Maeve murmured to herself, and Tony was almost sure she had cursed. "I'm sure they won't come anywhere near you Mae, but please, just for my piece of mind, lock the doors and stay in Ducky's office, we'll be there in twenty-"

"Fifteen." Gibbs interrupted.

"Fifteen minutes. Just stay locked up until then."

"_What if Ducky or Jimmy want in?"_

"They'll call your cell, Mae. Unless you hear from a member of my team first, you keep both those doors locked. Promise me, Mae."

"_Promise, Tonio_."

He said his gentle goodbyes then hung up the phone, twisting it in between his shaking hands to calm himself. Gibbs flicked on the radio to pre-set station #2 (the one Tony always turned to when he needed to calm down) and laid his foot down harder on the gas.


	21. Chapter 20

Ducky wondered if Gibbs was aware that if he felt like it he could take over their Federal Agency with practically no effort. Between Tony and Jethro almost every agent in the building either owed them a favor, or liked them enough to go to the line for them. Were they displaying this tendency under other circumstances Ducky might have done the numbers about just how many of these agents would've helped Gibbs in the era before Tony simply out of terror and the ardent belief that Gibbs was never wrong, as compared to how many of them helped the dynamic duo out of a _desire_ to. Today however, Ducky just chose to bask in the what and not the why of interoffice cooperation.

The Team Lead just junior to Gibbs as a charming fellow named Rick. He was best known as the one who plied half the building with doughnuts to keep them from telling Gibbs that he'd requested Tony's transfer to his team during one of the epic Gibbs v. DiNozzo brawls. (Jethro had found out anyway, of course, but he pretended not to know because the fear of discovery made Rick bring him coffee for a month).

Rick had pieced together that Gibbs' team was about to be screwed over by both the Bureau and the Director, and called her for a consult to give Abby room to work. Abby spent most of her time 'fixing' the computer problem on making it so the root of the problem couldn't be traced back to her. Rick's excuse for a consult was thin, but it gave the other leads enough time to come up with a string of mild emergencies that needed the Director's immediate attention. An agent or two also felt the need to ensure that their FBI counterparts were well taken care of, meaning that none of them were left alone anywhere in the building. While all this was going on, the agents in charge of monitoring the prisoners refused to let them out of their holding cells, even in the company of the FBI, playing on fear of Gibbs' wrath should they breathe the free air without the appropriate paperwork. Between the lot of them, it was enough to stall the whole process until Gibbs could take care of it.

Ducky took this all in with a benevolent pride in these agents he knew so well, and trusted the main building and the delay of the prisoner transfer to their care. He returned to his lab, intending to check on young Maeve, and found a rather large Italian gentleman pounding on his autopsy doors with the biohazard warning lights on.

Ducky sauntered up, completely ignoring the surprised and suspicious gleam in the man's eyes and said, "May I help you with something my good man?" Ducky could feign dotty old fool with the best of them, and after sizing up the doctor, (complete with his stereotype defining tweed jacket and bow tie), the interloper assumed he was no threat.

The change in demeanor was extraordinary, and had Ducky not spent so much time dealing with undercover agents, he would've believed it possible. The man was 50 if he was a day, and decked out in an expensive suit cut to perfection. In that moment he switched from wrathful and arrogant to sheepish and lost. Even after all these years Ducky could never understand how a man such as this one, with his patrician features and elegantly silver hair, could manage to sink in on himself and look softer, gentler, and completely innocent by simply willing it so.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet, reminding Ducky painfully of Anthony at the unsure beginning of his tenure at NCIS. "I'm sorry, Mr. ..."

Ducky stuck out his hand with, "Doctor Donald Mallard. I'm the NCIS ME." Any agent privy to their conversation would've been stunned at Ducky not insisting that he be called by his nickname, but Ducky wasn't prone to eliciting familiarity with mobsters, for surely that's what this man was. "How may I help you?"

The man gave a slight grin, as though he was terribly embarrassed to be admitting this, "I'm afraid my niece has locked herself in your office. One of your teams is investigating the disappearance of her boyfriend, and she got upset with me when I came to take her home. She's always been rather dramatic, and she seems to equate going home to get some rest with abandoning the boy to his fate." He shrugged at his helplessness in this situation, striving to look innocent.

Ducky had difficulty keeping track of all the lies spouted in that sentence, but kept his expression understanding. "Ahh, of course. I completely understand, we all know the plights of young love. Perhaps I shall call the phone in my office, and we'll see if the dear girl will pick up?"

The man nodded vigorously and replied, "That would be wonderful, Doctor. Thank you. I was so worried I was going to have to ask your Director for help, and I didn't want to be a burden."

Ducky gave his most understanding smile and pulled out his cell phone. "Now, who shall I tell her is here to speak with her?"

A flicker of discomfort crossed the man's expression, and Ducky knew it was because he didn't want anyone at NCIS to have a name to tie him to. Eventually they would be able to track him down from his picture on the security cameras, but that didn't mean he wanted to make it any easier on them. After a moment, Ducky's genial manner seemed to calm any of his concerns and the man looked horrifically embarrassed once again. "I'm sorry, Doctor, my manners have escaped me. I'm Alexander Macaluso, her mother's brother."

Ducky smiled as though the difficulties of distraught relatives were the norm in his existence, and slid open his phone. He furrowed his brow at the screen and shot Alexander an exasperated look, muttering, "My assistant doesn't yet grasp that I don't appreciate being text-ed. I prefer phone calls, they're much simpler to translate." Alexander grimaced with sympathy, giving Ducky a moment to 'respond' to the pretend text from Jimmy and actually flick one off to Tony, telling him of Alexander's presence.

After that was taken care of, Ducky called the land line in his office, letting it go to his answering machine which would echo around his office and be heard by Maeve. "My dear Miss Macaluso. I am Doctor Mallard, the ME in whose office you currently sit. I'm standing outside autopsy with your uncle, Alexander, and we were wondering if you wouldn't mind turning off the biohazard warning so we could come in. If you'd prefer your uncle didn't my dear, I completely understand, but I would like to get some papers before I head home for the evening and they happen to be entrenched in there with you."

Ducky hung up when he saw Maeve stick her head outside his office door with a look of abject terror on her face. He did his best to make his gaze convey that he knew the man to his left was one of her scurrilous uncles, and she didn't need to fear him with Ducky around. Judging by the way she steeled herself and came to the door with confidence in her stride, Ducky had done his job well.

She flicked the biohazard switch by the door, shutting off the red light and unlocking the sliding doors. Alexander stepped forward and swept Mae into his arms, murmuring all the time about how he was so worried for her, and he just wanted to take her home so she could rest. A lesser man wouldn't have noticed that in those few lines Alexander whispered into her hair while he clung to her like any heartsick relative, was all the information she needed to maintain the story as he'd told it to Ducky.

But Ducky knew better. He spared himself a moment for a mental snort and wondered just exactly how much of his file had been classified to the point that even the Macalusos couldn't look it up. 'Really,' he though to himself, 'young people these days have no talent for proper research.'

Maeve pulled back from the embrace ready to shout at Alexander, but Ducky placed a calming hand on her shoulder and said, "Now lets see about getting you a cup of tea, my girl."

Alexander moved to stop him and drag her out the door, whether she wanted to go or not, but Ducky already had her arm laced through his and was guiding her over to his desk. "Yes, I think that given what you've been through today a cup of tea will be just the thing. Some chamomile, to calm your nerves. And then," he shot a pointed look at Alexander, silently asking that he give Maeve a moment, "your dear uncle shall take you home to rest."

Mae opened her mouth to protest, to explain it all to Ducky, but he held up his hand to stop her and continued, "No, no, my dear. Your uncle is right. You can't do your lad any good by running yourself ragged." Ducky tilted them back towards the desk, catching Mae's eye and winking at her so Alexander couldn't see it.

Ducky rambled incessantly as he boiled the water and steeped a cup of tea for each of them, distracting them with his story while he slipped a few pills into one of the cups. Ducky gave them each their designated glass, and Alexander tried to protest the delay once again. With a gentle smile Ducky stopped him and asked Mae, "My dear, you should make sure you haven't forgotten anything in my office. I'd hate for you to lose it when you go." She nodded and trotted off to the room, knowing full well she hadn't left anything, but that Ducky needed her someplace else for the moment.

As soon as she was out of hearing range Ducky turned to Alexander and said gently, but firmly, "In my profession I've dealt with a number of victim's relatives, and I can assure you that if that girl isn't calm, she won't leave this building. And you can only imagine what will happen when you try and remove her forcibly. We have too many white hats in this agency for them to simply stand by and let her go kicking and screaming." Ducky tried to seem sympathetic to Alexander's plight, as though he was only doing what was in the best interests of them both. He nodded to Ducky's logic and took a swallow of tea.

XXXXXXX

The moment Tony announced to Gibbs that Alexander, the eldest of the Macaluso sons, was standing outside autopsy with Ducky to collect Mae, Gibbs pulled out the flashing red light and tossed it on top of the car. Tony realized that he'd actually never seen Gibbs use the police lights before, as though he thought it was cheating, but he did today. They careened through the streets towards the Navy Yard and Tony turned it all over to Gibbs to get them there in time.

Gibbs didn't bother with the formality of actually 'parking' their car in the motor pool, he simply turned it off and tossed the keys to the attendant as he ran past. Considering Gibbs had been so good as to cover the attendant shift for this fellow when his baby got sick and no one in the motor pool would do it for him, he was more than willing to overlook the few times that Gibbs overextended his authority. He'd earned it.

Tony and Gibbs blitzed through the lobby, making their way towards the elevator down to autopsy when they both heard the irate bellow of "Special Agent Gibbs!" come from their Director. Gibbs slammed on the breaks, but with a slight wrist flick he told Tony to keep running. She was too taken aback by Tony not stopping to face the upcoming shouting match by Gibbs' side that she didn't holler to him in time to stop him from crashing down the stairs and out of her range.

Tony took the stairs all a leap at a time, reaching the autopsy floor with a new record for speed. He burst down the hall, sending the agents who were still quietly going about their business scattering out of his way. He was going so fast that he nearly collided with the sliding doors to autopsy while they lollygagged their way open, and the sight that met him was almost too perfect for words.

Mae was sitting in the comfortable chair usually kept in Ducky's inner office, with her feet kicked up on the corner of his desk and the Deep Six sequel open on her lap. Ducky was in his regular chair, mulling over some paperwork, and the both of them were nursing cups of tea.

But the best part was that Alexander Macaluso, heir to the Macaluso fortune, and Tony's self-proclaimed arch-nemesis, was crashed on an autopsy table, snoring like a foghorn.


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N:** Alright, this feels a little rushed to me, but I hope you can forgive me. We've been away from character moments for a few chapters, so we're getting back to that, but still trying to push the plot forward. I hope you still enjoy it, and thank you for reading!

* * *

"Where is Dinozzo going?" From the safety of the overlook above the lobby, Jenny began her scolding of Gibbs. She spoke loudly enough that from his position on the ground floor Gibbs could hear her just fine, but then, so could the rest of the room.

Some part of Gibbs had hoped that this would be one of those times when Jenn's better nature won out and she'd choose to be on her agents' side, but it was looking like that hope was in vain. Jenn was pissed about something, but whether it was about having the FBI in her house, Gibbs overstepping his jurisdictional boundaries once again, or just how pretty much anything involving Tony seemed to send her into a fit these days, Gibbs wasn't sure yet.

"Witness called. Wanted to see him." While Jenny was busy projecting her volume to carry through the whole lobby, and into the open cell phones that people were busy pretending they weren't recording on, Gibbs kept his tone even and his volume just a shade quieter than it needed to be. Partially because it would force Jenn to not have this conversation in shouts for everyone to hear, but mainly because it had always pissed the hell out of her when he started speaking in the gentle tones you'd use for someone unstable.

Jenn caught on to his behavior and kept her voice loud as she strolled down the stairs like she was a vindictive queen toying with one of her serfs. "This would be the witness who has virtually been living with Ducky in autopsy for the last few days, correct?"

Sheppard came to stand in front of Gibbs, hands on her hips and chin jutting out, challenging him with every inch of her being. "This is also the witness with… _personal_ ties to Agent DiNozzo?'

The whole lobby dropped to dead quiet, mouths hanging open at the implication behind that statement and waited for Gibbs to explode. Unbeknownst to Jenny, Gibbs had been getting texts the whole drive to the Navy Yard, all from agents updating him on the status of the office. The whole damn building had put their jobs on the line to help his team out today, and now Sheppard was going toe to toe with him like wasn't already feeling violently protective. If his instincts had swollen to the point where he felt the need to look after _every_ NCIS agent, didn't she realize that for DiNozzo he'd kill?

"There a problem with that?" He kept his voice still calm, if perhaps a bit more gruff than usual.

"I didn't realize this agency was in the habit of putting in extra favors for DiNozzo's women." He stifled the urge to snap at her for demeaning a girl whose marine boyfriend had been abducted by calling her one of Tony's 'women' in that tone. The crassness of her comment was a little too much, even for Gibbs.

Gibbs was baffled at her crossing the line and insulting Tony in public like this. Did she honestly think Gibbs wouldn't fight back? He didn't play the politics games because they annoyed him, not because he wasn't good at them. As with most things, when Gibbs put his mind to it, he was brilliant.

Jethro quirked an eyebrow at her and said, "We all have our women Director, but they shouldn't be punished for being our history." And there was his shot across the bow. Jenn narrowed her eyes, glaring at him with a force that anyone who wasn't Jethro Gibbs would've found intimidating.

If she wanted to air dirty laundry, Gibbs could do it with the best of them. So what if DiNozzo was the favorite son of a mob family? That would be nothing compared to Gibbs announcing to the entranced lobby that Sheppard had had an affair with Gibbs. He wasn't stupid, he knew what he meant to this agency. Gibbs would get gossiped about for a few weeks, maybe put on suspension for insubordination by spreading the rumor, but the moment they caught a case with media attention, he'd be back. Any discipline met out against Gibbs would be nothing compared to Jenn's humiliation at being relegated in the agents' eyes to no more than one of Gibbs' endless stream of redheads. Jenn would be mortified beyond repair.

"Perhaps we should continue this discussion in my office." And just like that, he won the game. Jenn would fight all the harder to get custody of the case transferred to the FBI the moment they were alone, but at least he'd kept Tony out of the gossip pool. And now Gibbs understood what she was truly pissed about.

This wasn't a jurisdictional scuffle, or Jenn feeling her authority had been flouted again. She'd gotten a hold of the original case file, probably even found Morrow's notes, and now she was pissed as all hell about how Tony got hired. She'd never be a fan of Gibbs being more protective of others than he was of her, and reading Tony's hiring report would be enough to blow out of the water any thoughts she had about being his favorite partner.

Despite Jenn using Tony as her golden boy while Gibbs was away, hell still hath no fury like a woman scorned. She'd been wholly in the wrong on Tony's undercover assignment: wrong about making him lie to Gibbs, wrong about hunting The Frog, and wrong about being offended that Tony stopped trusting her after it all went to hell. She was going to have to start trying to re-earn his trust rather than push him into pretending that she hadn't screwed him over, or one of them was going to do something stupid.

She'd trusted Tony completely, and still had no reason to doubt him. But lately she'd been looking for reasons to break that trust, as though exposing Tony's mistakes would make her own less awful, and Gibbs had been less than pleased.

Jenn kept her mouth shut until they reached her office, thinking that the tempestuous expression on her face was what was keeping people from interrupting them as they stormed through the hallways, but really it was Gibbs' game face keeping them at bay. Every agent visibly relaxed with Gibbs back in the building, content that Dad would take care of Mom and her power trip without throwing any of them under the bus to do it.

Jenn and Gibbs made it peaceably to her office, right up until the moment she assumed her most intimidating position behind the giant oak desk. She whirled to face Gibbs and started yelling before Gibbs even got the door closed. Her first yell echoed perfectly down to the bullpen below, which was actually what Jenn didn't intend.

"Don't you ever threaten me like that again, Jethro Gibbs! I don't give a rat's ass about your solve rate, I'll throw you out of this agency so fast your head will spin!" Gibbs paused to flash a put-upon smile to secretary Cynthia before lightly shutting the door, and turning to face Jenn, keeping his voice calm and irritating her all the more.

When Gibbs answered, he didn't bother playing dumb. "You threatened DiNozzo, Director. I was just reminding you that all of us have pasts, and those don't mean we can't get the job done."

"He's the named heir to a Baltimore crime lord, Jethro! How in the hell did you keep this from me?"

"Didn't keep anything from you, Jenn. Morrow didn't think it was anything to be concerned about when we hired Tony, and he obviously didn't think it was worth mentioning to his replacement."

Sheppard took a moment to step back and breathe. Her anger had run away with her and that was no way to outmaneuver Gibbs. She could just order him to leave it alone, but that would only give him license to go running off the reservation. At least if she could give him some real reason to play nice with the Bureau he'd keep things mostly legal. "Jethro, given Tony's history with the Macaluso family, we both know it would be better for the case and safer for Tony to turn it over to a third party."

That was not the right play.

Gibbs' attempt at mildness iced over, and Jenn felt the shift in his treatment of her from 'friend who's making a stupid choice' to 'threat'. "Director, is there something in particular you'd like to ask me, or can I go back to work now?"

Jenn came out from behind her desk and leaned back against the front of it, trying look compassionate and conciliatory. "Jethro... I read Tom's notes surrounding Tony's hiring. The Macalusos have made attempts on his life before for perceived interference in their affairs. Giovanni called on Tony to fix this before he called any of his sons, and that's bound to irritate them."

Gibbs sat down in one of the chairs before her desk and leaned back, feigning consideration of her position. He was infuriated with Jenn, his _friend_, for thinking he would abandon Tony to the skills and protection of the FBI. And that's exactly what it was in his mind, abandonment. Tony would stay safely tucked away at NCIS, but the agents in charge of putting away these threats to Tony weren't worth Gibbs' spit, let alone his trust.

"Jethro, you've already done all the leg work on this case. The marine is found, the kidnappers are caught, and you don't have to worry about seeing justice done for the victim. Right now what you have to think about is Tony, and getting him out of the line of fire by the Macalusos. This is about protecting _him_."

Gibbs was on his feet so fast that Jenn barely had time to process the movement. He pressed into her space, forcing her to lean back at an angle so deep against her desk that anyone walking into the office would think they were up to something inappropriate. Jenn was pinned there by Jethro's arms at her sides, and his stare holding back her tongue.

"If you've got Tom's notes, you know _exactly_ what I went through to get Tony away from that family alive the first time. Don't insult me by implying that I would do _anything_ to deliberately put him in harm's way."

"Jethro, you-"

Gibbs slammed his hand down on the desk beside her, making her jump. "You know who's in the basement right now, Jenn? Who Tony is dealing with by himself because you wanted to make a fool of me in front of the whole damn building just because you're pissed they're taking Tony's side over yours?"

Her brow furrowed, her rage at Gibbs speaking to her with such disrespect overtaking the shame she couldn't help but feel at his justified scolding. She moved to interrupt him, but Gibbs stopped her with the answer to his own question. "Alexander Macaluso."

The color drained from her face at those two words, and Gibbs carried on. "If you've got Tom's notes, then you should recognize the name. You know that the last time Tony saw him, Alex put a bullet hole in Tony's chest."

She dropped her eyes, unable to look Gibbs head on while he glowed with wrath at that memory. "They tried to kill him in cold blood, right in front of me, Jenn. I won't be turning a damn thing over to the bastards in Organized Crime who covered up that shooting to keep Alex out of prison just so they could lord it over him for more information."

He pulled back, giving her enough room to breathe while he finished, "You can either back my play Jenn, or get out of the way. I won't leave Tony wide open to get screwed over by them again."

Jenn watched him straighten his jacket and leave her office without another word. She was in no mood to continue a conversation she had no chance of winning. She'd seen that feral look in Jethro's eye only once before, and it was something she'd dearly hoped never to witness again. That look meant Gibbs was slipping into a place where she had no hope of controlling him, or persuading him. He'd do whatever he damn well pleased, and do it with a clear conscience because he thought Tony needed it.

Jethro was wrong though; Jenny could do more than get out the way. She could prep the lawyers so he'd have someone to defend him when he got back from the edge.

XXXXXXX

As if the universe believed Gibbs' mood wasn't foul enough, he stepped onto the balcony outside the Director's office and came face to face with Special Agent Thomas Williams, favorite drone of the Bureau's Organized Crime Division. Gibbs spared at moment for the necessary mental profanity at seeing Williams, but wasted no more time in getting mentally prepped for the upcoming fight.

Williams' hair was blonde, cut just a hair short of surfer-boy style, and with his wholesome, angelic face he gave the feeling as though he'd just stepped off the farm. In truth, he was a weasel. He had no sense of honor, merely ambition, and Gibbs loathed him for that. His service wasn't about duty or justice, merely about attaining a position of power. He lacked the spine to tell his superiors they were wrong, and ended up climbing the ranks by being pulled up with his lips firmly attached to the ass of someone higher up. This was the pup who handled anything to do with Giovanni Macaluso and his family, this was the spineless twit who hadn't looked for Eli himself and instead left it to NCIS, and this was the fool who thought he could keep control over Gio and use him to his own ends.

The bright spot in Gibbs being forced to go ten rounds with Williams after going up against the Director was the sight of NCIS agents flanking Williams. Apparently they were unwilling to leave the FBI alone in their building, and Gibbs was thrilled by that.

The disgustingly ruthless young man was leaning up against the railing of the overlook, feigning indifference at being stonewalled by NCIS. "You know that you're interrupting the Bureau's prior claim to investigations into the Macaluso family, don't you Gibbs?"

Jethro just snorted and made his way down the stairs and into the bullpen, well aware that every agent in the office was just pretending to work at this point. They'd been on tenterhooks waiting for Gibbs' exit ever since he stepped into Jenny's office, knowing which one of them had won, but wanting confirmation nonetheless.

Gibbs ignored the man's indignant flare of temper at being treated with such disregard. Williams was of the opinion that all the blackmail he'd stocked up on other agents mixed with his ass kissing was enough to earn him deference. Gibbs, however, had never been one for deference, he'd been one for respect. As such, Gibbs held the memory of shattering Williams' perfect, patrician nose as one of his favorite moments. Williams was the one who covered up Tony's shooting, who got the whole thing swept under the rug, and given the opportunity Gibbs felt like breaking a few more of his bones.

Williams followed Gibbs down the stairs, trailed by the gaggle of agents who'd tailed him all day. Gibbs' long stride made it all the way to the middle of the office before Williams caught up enough to comment, "We'll get jurisdiction transferred eventually Gibbs, you know that. So why fight it?"

As in everything, the boy's tone was snide and demeaning, compelling Gibbs to turn on his heel and stepped into Williams' space, practically touching noses he was pushing the boundary so far. I'm giving you one chance to get your men out of my building under their own power, because if you don't, they'll be carried out in unconscious heaps by my agents."

"They're not your agents, Gibbs."

Gibbs just smirked with an edge that called Williams a damn fool and looked around the room, drawing Williams' gaze. The FBI agent caught sight of every agent in the office watching them. Some were merely glaring, while others had moved into ready position where drawing their guns would be quicker, but the harshest was that every team lead (comfortable that they wouldn't be fired) had their guns pulled. Now that Williams properly understood his situation, Gibbs replied.

"Like hell they're not."


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N:** So, I realized this week that I've been dragging this story on for a really *really* long time now. Like, irritatingly long for you good people doing the reading. When I set up the posting schedule I didn't quite realize how long this would end up being (I originally thought about 12 chapters, silly me), and now I'm having flashbacks to gritting my teeth and waiting months to make it through a story while the author was posting. So, I think, as part of how terribly much I love you all, I'll be posting more often. I hope you don't mind. :)

* * *

Tobias Fornell was going to be on shit duty for months after this little dalliance with NCIS. But every cold case and Probie training exercise he was about to be put through would be completely worth it, just because he got to watch NCIS get ruthless. All the FBI offices, the DC one in particular, were too large to foster the sort of camaraderie that thrived at NCIS, and now Fornell got to watch it in full swing.

Gibbs was in interrogation with the suspect DiNutso so charmingly referred to as 'Dumb Muscle', and Fornell was waiting to update him. Gibbs had spent most of the late afternoon on the phone, calling in on a string of markers from people at the FBI to get them to throw their weight around and leave this abduction, and all the people it involved, to NCIS. Fornell had been doing the same, but also taking the time to placate the various Assistant Directors at the Bureau by telling them he'd talked Gibbs into a joint investigation, so at least they weren't completely locked out.

Fornell wasn't surprised at all that he and Gibbs were throwing around the weight of their reputations to fix this, since it's what they usually did when the other was in trouble. No, he was thrown by what the rest of NCIS was doing.

Ducky had a drugged mob boss spread out on one of his tables, and was busy concocting a reason why he wasn't going to get sued for unlawful imprisonment (though Fornell was almost positive that no matter what he told the NCIS lawyers, Ducky's explanation to Macalsuo would involve threats of unleashing Gibbs if charges were pressed). The rest of the building was either trying to divert their director's wrath, or run checks on nearly every person in the Macaluso organization for a connection to the other two kidnappers.

Any team not working an active case was pitching in, though most of the younger agents didn't understand the desperation and slight terror working it's way through the older agents as word spread that Alexander Macaluso was in the building and that Organized Crime was dancing with Gibbs. The stupid youngsters just thought it was another case of Gibbs not trusting a different agency to get the job done, while the smart agents felt the tension in the air rise at the mere mention of the Macalusos and that wasn't normal, even for Gibbs.

They didn't understand, not one of them. Not even the agents who'd been around then, who were trusted with the truth of the mess when it happened. Ducky understood, but he always understood Gibbs, even if he didn't know the whole story that he was understanding, and Tom had understood, but he wasn't there to pull Gibbs back from the edge anymore. Fornell understood too, from his terrible place as the only man at the FBI Gibbs trusted to run an investigation while he couldn't.

Fornell remembered the midnight phone call from Gibbs seven years ago, the one that started his involvement in this mess. The one full of heartache and sheer shock the likes of which Fornell had never heard coming from stoic Gibbs before. Gibbs and Fornell had always been better friends than they should've been considering that they shared an ex-wife, but that phone call, and the fact that Gibbs had trusted him in a moment when any faith in the Bureau was blown to high hell, that had tied them together.

Few of the agents running around the NCIS building or the FBI building knew that Gibbs hated the Macalusos, not because they were dirty as all hell, but because they'd shot Tony and gotten away with it.

It happened in Baltimore at the end of their first case together, after Tony had put his life on the line for Gibbs throughout the whole week (and more importantly, managed to keep that truth from Gibbs). They'd gone up against Giovanni, several of his sons, and their FBI guardians, all to find Mike and arrest him for the murder of a US marine. In the ensuing scrum Alexander shot Tony, then pretended it was an accidental weapons discharge. All the evidence suggested otherwise, but the FBI decided it wasn't an incident worth pursuing.

Yeah, 'cause the shooting of a _policeman_ by a _mob boss_ in the presence of _**FBI agents**_ wasn't an incident worth pursuing. Fornell had almost resigned the moment he heard the whole story and it still made him sick to his stomach.

After the shot had been fired, and Gibbs had held Tony's chest closed with his own hands, that pained call had come to Fornell. Gibbs' partner was in the hospite and he needed someone to go bastard hunting with, so he turned to Tobias.

Against the unspoken orders of the Baltimore DA one of the Deputy Directors of the FBI (about both of whom Gibbs leaked information to a very responsive reporter and got them fired for corruption), Gibbs and Fornell tracked down Mike Macaluso and arrested him. They went for Alexander too, but the lawyers were too fast. He struck an immunity deal for turning on his brother, and was beyond the official justice form of justice that Gibbs sought.

Legal or not, Gibbs had taken a different route after he'd been stopped by the lawyers, and he thought he'd made himself painfully clear to the whole damn Macaluso clan when he walked into their house and ordered them to stay the hell away from Tony. The yelling match between Jethro and Giovanni had been intensely impressive, but ultimately fruitless. Gibbs thought Tony had been left blissfully alone by the Macalusos right up until the moment Tony had been mind-frelled into taking off five years ago.

And now, Fornell found himself wrapped up with Gibbs in the same situation all over again. But it was getting worse. Gibbs had merely given the Macalusos a talking to the first time, then had been forced to pull his gun and hand out threats the second, and now Fornell could only imagine how far Gibbs was going to go.

As he sat at DiNozzo's desk and waited, watching agents scurry around him, surrupticiously doing their background checks, he started to plan just exactly how he'd go about covering for Gibbs when the time came to get homicidal.

Fornell sat with his feel propped up on the desk before him, and held that position for a few minutes until the roving half of Gibbs' team came barreling back to their desks in a state of agitation.

"Gibbs is going to kill us." McGee sounded so forlorn at disappointing Gibbs that Tobias almost laughed. The man called himself a bastard, but this doe-eyed boy would still do anything for him.

"Of course he is McGee, _I_ would be willing to kill us for not turning up any evidence, just so Gibbs will not have to fill out any paperwork!" Ziva and Tim dropped their bags down behind their desks, ignoring Fornell's presence and pretending that they weren't being scrutinized.

They didn't have long to wait before a wrathful Gibbs came storming up from interrogation, because with his black magic timing he stepped off the elevator at that moment with Tony in tow. After making his phone calls Gibbs had joined Tony with Dumb Muscle, getting what information they could from him.

He'd sung once Eli was found and it looked like he was alone on the hook for Eli's abduction, but none of that info they gleaned did them any good without corroborating evidence. Lacking that, this whole case would be painted by any decent prosecutor as just one criminal trying to drag two upstanding citizens into his mess.

"Whatcha got?" Ziva and McGee looked at one another instead of at Gibbs, a blend of panic and apology in their gazes, and finally Fornell spoke for them.

"They've got nothing."

Thankfully Gibbs turned his glare to Ziva and McGee and not to Fornell, and demanded, "How in the hell can you have _nothing_?"

"We went over the whole house Gibbs. There wasn't a single fingerprint, hair, or leftover speck of trash!" Ziva was just as frustrated as Gibbs, losing all her cool in the face of no results after being trapped indoors all afternoon hunting for evidence. "The other teams are still there double checking, but as of right, we have nothing."

"What about the key?" Gibbs demanded.

"What key?" Even Fornell flinched slightly at the glare Gibbs turned on him for interrupting their sit-rep.

"Maeve had the lock on her front door replaced a few weeks ago, Young helped her do it. There were no signs of forced entry at the apartment, and it looks like he had a duplicate made while he was replacing the lock."

"You can't find the hardware store he bought the lock from?"

McGee rushed in to answer the question, knowing Gibbs was never a big fan of having to be the one to do the answering in his own sit-rep. "It was the nearest Home Depot. He paid in cash on his way home from work, and the security cameras inside the store don't show him having an extra key made."

"So, you're thinking he went home, fixed her lock, then managed to go out and have an extra key made after he'd already given her the original?"

McGee shrugged at Fornell's question and replied, "We can't find a receipt for a second key, but Ziva can't find any trace that the lock was picked. And it's too big a coincidence that Max would help her replace her lock only weeks before a break-in with no trace of forced entry."

Gibbs moved to shout in his frustration again, but Tony interrupted in a painfully jocular voice, "Anyone else reminded of Ocean's 11 right now?"

Jethro turned his wrath on Tony and got, "How the hell does-" halfway out before the realization that Tony was only trying to draw fire made it's way through the fog of rage. He stopped the shout mid-sentence and sighed at Tony's self-sacrifice. The frustration soon dissolved to a smirk and a head shake at Tony's efforts.

Gibbs slipped into his chair, letting his agents breathe for just a moment and calm down from the fear of Gibbs eating them alive. As usual, McGee was the one to break their sought for silence. "I just don't understand how these guys could have enough forensic knowledge to keep us off their trail, but still be stupid enough to pick a Jewish guy who lives in one of their buildings as their abductee."

Tony bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, wisps of inspiration striking and making him antsy. "I think you're asking the wrong question."

"Then what the hell's the _right_ question, DiNozzo?"

"The question is, Boss: why? Why go to all the trouble of nabbing Eli when there are probably plenty of easier targets to get ahold of? If this was just about Eli being Jewish, then McGee's right, it would've been random. And if this was about him being Jewish and a marine, they still would've come up with someone more distant. This has to be about something about Eli himself, not his religion, or his service, but something unique about _him_."

"So DiNutso, what is it that makes Eli unique?"

Tony shot Fornell a pointed look for not vacating Tony's chair, but still leaned back against the cubicle divider, staring at some vague point on the far wall and viewing what none of them could see. McGee had a flash of realization that this must be what Tony looked like when he worked all alone in the dead of night. No one to talk to, or show off for, no reason to hide behind the lie that he wasn't brilliant. This was Tony focused and unfettered, and McGee thought he might finally understand how Gibbs saw Tony all the time.

The moment all the pieces slammed together for Tony, he inadvertently gasped. Tim jumped at the noise, and Ziva reached for her gun, assuming Tony had seen something tangible come around the corner of the bullpen. But Gibbs, Gibbs knew that gasp for what it was – a lightning strike.

"Maeve. _Maeve_ is what makes Eli unique. Max wanted to date her, and she shot him down because of Eli. If this isn't about him being a marine, or being Jewish, it's got to be about her. She's the one thing Max wants."

"But... why not just ruin their relationship the old fashioned way? Why abduct him? They couldn't keep him locked in a basement forever, they'd have to actually murder him to keep Elia away."

Tony strove for an answer to McGee's question, but none came. He looked to Gibbs who answered by rising to his feet and heading for the elevator. As the team stared after him in shock he stated, "Let's go ask him."


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Once again, when italics come in a spree, it's someone on the other end of a phone line.

There was going to be a problem with this interrogation, and both Gibbs and Tony knew it. They had nothing. Literally, _nothing_. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Bubkis. All they had was the word of a dishonorably discharged ex-marine and Eli hearing three different voices.

No forensics.

No witnesses.

Nothing.

As far as the usual interrogation pre-game psych-ups went, this one was spectacularly awful. Max had absolutely no reason in the world to spill, and he knew it. In fact, Eli was probably secure in the knowledge that if worse came to worst, he'd simply be released into the care of the FBI.

Wait... being released to the FBI wouldn't be comforting under normal circumstances. Especially since FBI was an acronym people recognized. DiNozzo's spidy-sense was tingling at the unusually comfort being offered by a federal agency, and so ran the name over and over, trying to trigger what was wrong. The FBI. The Bureau. The Federal Bureau of Investigation. Nah, still nothing but the feeling.

The team was standing outside the interrogation room door, and Tony was busy staring at spot on the wall while he processed. Typically by this point Tony would've burst open the door, all confidence and bravado, then stepped aside to let Gibbs in, with every motion in perfect sync and just a little bit more intimidating for their timing. Gibbs caught on that Tony's mind was taking a step away from his body and cocked an eyebrow in his direction.

"I just, I need a sec Boss. I'm having a moment."

"Ducky can give you pills for that sort of thing, you know." Gibbs said it in his dry voice, teasing Tony, and under normal circumstances he would've either sputtered, unable to reply, or tossed back something brilliantly sarcastic (all depending on his mood). But today, Tony kept his eyes on the wall, struggling to seize that whiff of off-kilter information he was searching for.

The FBI. Max was relieved to see the FBI and be in their custody when he shouldn't be. Definitely shouldn't be. Seriously, who was ever _happy_ to see the FBI? They're not a fun bunch of people. Nobody wanted to see... wanted to... "He **wanted** to see them!" DiNozzo's green eyes expanded in shock and he fumbled for his phone, rapidly dialing while the rest of the team wondering what had just happened.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony's attention snapped back to Gibbs and he rushed out, "Eli, Boss! Eli asked me why the FBI wasn't there!"

Gibbs tried to demand more of an explanation, but on the other end of the phone line, Eli picked up. _"Hello?"_

"Eli! Why were you expecting the FBI?"

_"What? Tony?"_

"Need an answer to the question, Lieutenant."

That was enough to snap Eli out of whatever slightly drugged haze he'd been in when he picked up. _"Because they've been checking up on Mae, twice a month. They schedule appointments with her, run background checks on her neighbors, and one of them gave Mae her number to call if she ever needed help with anything. I assumed that me getting abducted would fall under that heading."_

"What's the name of the agent, Eli? The one who's been making all these visits?"

_"Umm..."_ In his mind's eye Tony could see Eli closing his eyes, focusing on some random conversation where the name had first popped up. _"It was something plain. Practical. Tommy. I remember she called him Tommy, even though she was sure it annoyed him, but you know how she's always loved that name ever since she went through her Star Trek phase."_

"Lieutenant!"

_"Williams, Sir! Tommy Williams." _Eli couldn't help but get formal at the Gibbs tone in Tony's voice.

"Did she mention anything about Agent Williams meeting any of her neighbors?"

_"He came by once when Max was there for dinner a few months ago. Ironically, she said that she finally started to trust Tommy after Max told her how much he liked the Agent."_

In true Gibbs style, DiNozzo flipped his phone shut before exchanging a proper goodbye. He took a deep breath, bringing himself back from the desire to start picking off people he thought were a disgrace to the badge and told the team, "Agent Williams has been paying bi-monthly visits to Mae. On one of these visits he made friends with Max."

Ziva went to ask 'Who's Agent Williams?' but Gibbs pounced through the interrogation room door too fast for a question, with Tony right behind him.

Despite the sure knowledge that he'd be out of this building before too long, Max couldn't help but lean away and slam down on his blossoming panic at the sight of Gibbs. The man was positively feral, and Max had the wholly irrational thought that Gibbs was the sort of man who would snap him in two before the FBI ever got the chance to spring him from holding.

Gibbs had never been an 'explain my motivations and methods for breaking the suspect' kind of guy, so Tony wasn't at all thrown that the Boss didn't bring him up to speed when he burst into the interrogation room. However, all his possible confusion was swept away at the sight of Gibbs holding open the door for DiNozzo and then stepping into the Tony's regularly appointed position along the back wall.

Gibbs was letting him take the lead. Gibbs was letting him take the lead on a witness who had absolutely no reason to talk and every reason to stay silent. This interview would require finesse of the staged Law & Order variety, and Tony tried to not look at all surprised at this turn of events.

Max was still flinching away from Gibbs and the look of rage on his face, so Tony painted himself as the much more humane younger partner who held back Gibbs' ferocity. Tony stuck out his hand across the table as he sat down and said with a commiserating smile, "Nice to see you again Mr. Young. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Agent DiNozzo."

"Yes Agent, I remember you. You're investigating the disappearance of Maeve's boyfriend Eli."

"Exactly. And you understand why we've taken you into custody?"

Max fidgeted in his seat, looking supremely uncomfortable that Gibbs was lurking just outside his vision, pacing back and forth in his blind spot. He tried to eek out a charming smile for Tony, but it didn't quite work, "No actually, I confess I don't. Nor do I know why you had one of your agents keep tabs on me at the party."

Tony gave him another smile and replied, "We learned from our research that both of our suspects belonged to that organization, and we were hoping that they'd turn up to the meeting so we could bring them in for questioning. Agent McGee was there to inform us when they came in." At that point the smile turned slightly embarrassed and Tony continued, "It was Agent McGee's first undercover assignment, and he got a little caught up." DiNozzo silently swore to himself that as soon as this case was over he'd do a double date with McGee to make the lie up to him.

Max chuckled at that, catching on to Tony's tone like they'd both been letting his nerdy younger brother tag along and were commiserating over it. "As for why you were detained, you were in the company of suspected kidnappers when we took them, and we prefer being safe instead of sorry." Tony shrugged, and Max nodded like he completely understood.

"Now Mr. Young, we think you might know more about the situation than you realize, and we'd just like to go over everything with you. I'm sorry we haven't been in to talk with you before now, but we found the victim's location and we've been seeing to him."

Max held up a hand to stall Tony and questioned, "I don't mean to be rude, but wouldn't it be better to ask the victim?"

Tony sighed deeply and said, "Lieutenant Snyder was unconscious when we found him, and the doctors want to keep him that way until the morning. We could wait until tomorrow, but I don't like to wait when there might be more kidnappers involved."

Like the diligent citizen he was pretending to be, Max nodded and said, "Whatever you need, Agent."

Tony smiled gratefully and flipped open his notebook, projecting the aura that they were just two old friends having a chat rather than a formal interrogation. Tony worked his way through the background questions, things like how long had he know Mae, what were his impressions of the kidnappers, and the like. By the time Tony had made it through all the preliminaries he had already known the answers to, Max was contentedly ignoring Gibbs' increased fake agitation and reveling in Tony treating him like an equal and not a suspect.

It only took about two questions for both of the agents to see that Max reeked of guilty, but their suspicions weren't enough to convict. Tony took his time asking the background questions, getting a feel for the type of man Max really was behind the mask so he could find the right approach to proceed with breaking him. Whatever else Max was (control freak, hero complex, ego the size of Texas) he was, above all else, a good man. Tony could see it in him, and he didn't understand how that desire to protect could be morphed into the desire to kidnap.

It had to all come back to Mae. Tony didn't quite see how yet, but it had to. Tony could feel Gibbs getting antsier, wanting to just slam his hand down on the table and make Max spill. They both knew that way wouldn't work, but the desire was still there. No, the way to get Max to talk would be to make his behavior seem understood, justified even, in Tony's eyes.

He scanned over the notes one last time, then grinned at Max and said, "I think we're done here." Tony leaned forward and stuck out his hand, jovially shaking with Max and continued, "And I just wanted to thank you, I really appreciate what you've done."

Max cocked an eyebrow and remained in his seat for a moment, trying to figure out why a Federal Agent sounded so heartfelt about answering questions. "I'm just doing my duty. It's no more or less than anyone else would do."

Tony snorted, "If you think that's regular behavior for neighbors you obviously haven't been in DC very long."

Max's expression devolved from playing along to complete confusion at that, and asked, "Neighbors?"

That prompted Tony to sit back down with a completely different stance than before. He leaned back, projecting the air that this was entirely off the record and a place for honesty between friends. "Yes. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you were willing to sit here and answer our questions, but I'm a lot more grateful that you've been looking after Mae."

"...M-Mae?"

It was Tony's turn to look confused, then he answered, "Yes, Mae. Your neighbor, the one you've been looking after for the last few months? Maeve Macaluso. She's my little sister." Tony ignored the blanche of confusion that flitted across Max's face and kept rambling. "Well, I suppose technically she's my cousin, but with the amount of our lives that we've spent together we're more like siblings. I do what I can for her, but I work such long hours, and Mae has always been twitchy about accepting family help."

"M-My neighbor is Mae _Ryan_."

Tony grinned as if it were some grand joke and said, "Yeah, it's our mothers' last name."

Max couldn't have looked more horrified if Tony had told him his neighbor was a serial killer. Tony picked up his chair and moved it over to Max's side of the table, plopping down next to him with a grateful grin. "I know, I know, you were just doing the right thing, looking out for her. You're just that kind of guy. You wanted to keep her safe, make sure nothing happened to such a sweet girl, and that she didn't get lost in all the offerings of the big city."

Max nodded at Tony, surprised that he seemed to understand. "_Exactly_. I thought she needed my protection."

"But now you're finding out that she _didn't_ need the protection you thought she did." Max fidgeted, uncomfortable with the path this was taking, but Tony patted him on the shoulder and snot him a friendly grin, "Hey, it's alright. I understand. You've spent all this time worrying about her, itsy little blonde thing that she is, and now it turns out that you didn't need to worry at all."

Max started to relax back into his chair, staring at Tony with a strange blend of gratitude and disbelief. "She's from a tough family, plenty of brothers to look after her, if any of them were man enough to do the job properly." He got a nod out of Max, and Tony started doing an internal happy dance for getting Max to respond.

"But you didn't_ know_ that. You just saw a girl, living alone, no one to take care of her. And then Agent Williams warned you about Lieutenant Snyder, and what else could you do but try and help?"

Max was nodding vigorously now, completely taken by Tony's interpretation of the situation. Whatever the real motivation behind Max's behavior was, Tony had just given him an ethical out. "Exactly! She needed protection, and Tommy said he couldn't give her the kind of help she needed, it wasn't allowed."

Tony puffed out a sigh and shook his head, looking irritated with Williams. "So he asked _you _to do it? He couldn't protect her himself?"

Max got defensive of Williams at that point, "I'm sure Tommy could've, if he really wanted to, but I wanted to help her."

Tony patted him on the shoulder again and said, "You're a good man, Max. I don't know if I would've been able to step in and do and agent's job if I was a civilian."

Max grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "It wasn't that hard."

Tony smiled again and replied, "No, for you, I'm sure it wasn't. What instructions did he give you exactly? Were they helpful or did he just leave you on your own?"

"He was very helpful, Agent DiNozzo! He told me to pay for everything in cash, to pick random stores, to wear gloves, how to clean up the house so we didn't leave any traces, all of those things!"

Tony nodded like he agreed that Williams had been very helpful and said, "Yeah, that sounds like everything, but I still feel bad that you had to go through it all by yourself. I wish he would've helped you instead of, what? Sending you a bunch of e-mails?"

Max shook his head, "No, it was better than that. Tommy and I had a long lunch where he explained everything."

"Everything about how to abduct Eli and not get caught?"

"Precisely,-" Before Max had the chance to ramble about anything else, Gibbs hauled him up, sending the chair tumbling to the floor and slapping cuffs on Max as he read him his Miranda rights.

Tony wasn't paying attention as Gibb dealt with the situation, letting his mind spiral off to the new question: Why in the hell would Williams want Eli kidnapped?


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Thank you for reading!  


* * *

It started with Maeve. The hospital told Gibbs that they'd be keeping Eli sedated for the night, so Mae should settle in someplace with a real bed and get some decent sleep. Fornell had offered her Gibbs' guest bedroom with a pointed explanation that the Assistant Director over Williams wasn't going to let the crown jewel of the Organized Crime department get arrested by anybody, even if that anybody was Gibbs. Fornell swore he'd bring Williams in for questioning first thing in the morning, but that meant he wanted Gibbs somewhere that he wouldn't sneak out and take matters into his own hands, and looking after Mae was Fornell's best bet.

Gibbs caved, but mainly because Jenny was right that they couldn't keep the girl in autopsy for much longer. Even if Ducky didn't mind having her there, eventually there was going to be a body in the basement and Gibbs didn't want to inflict her with that. But Fornell didn't need know that little truth, so he swore over a bottle of bourbon and to not actually take Tony into custody the next time they thought he'd killed somebody. Gibbs thought it was a fair trade.

Then, of course, you couldn't have Maeve spend the night anywhere without Tony, so he and his go bag came along too, pretending that he wasn't sparing several second thoughts to Gibbs maybe not intending to invite him as well.

Then, somehow, Abby insisted that she be allowed to tag along because Gibbs and Tony didn't have the sorts of things a girl would need to spend the night. (Gibbs _really_ didn't want to know what 'sorts of things' encompassed, so he let Abby get away with it.)

Then, well, from there the whole thing just slipped out of Gibbs' control, as it usually did when Abby was involved with anything at his house. Abby had to bring Ziva over to help her make dinner for everyone, and McGee had to be sent to bring Tony's TV and a selection of DVDs, and then Ducky couldn't just send a sedative with them to Gibbs' place, he had to come and administer it himself.

Which was how Gibbs went downstairs for half an hour to sand his boat with Mae so she could have a chance to calm down while he thought Tony and Abby were doing the cooking, and came up to the whole team settling in for dinner around his too small kitchen table.

They all froze for a moment at his sudden reappearance, as though they thought he'd throw them out now that he realized the whole team had turned up uninvited. Ducky ignored the sudden increase in tension and instead waved Gibbs over to the stove and said, "Jethro, you simply must taste this sauce that Ziva has made, it's stunning."

Gibbs stepped his way around still shell-shocked co-workers and plucked the wooden spoon out of Ducky's hand before tasting. "Hmm, it's good," was all the encouragement it took for everyone to take a deep sigh of relief and start bustling about again.

Eventually they all sat down at the table, with Gibbs at the head, and though he'd never admit it out loud, he was thrilled to have them all there. Despite the chaos of four different conversations ranging around the table, there was a peace to having them all there, safe and under his roof where he could look after them. Logically, he knew that they were all highly trained federal agents and completely capable of taking care of themselves, but he could never stifle the urge to keep them all safe.

The whole dinner went smoothly, with no one mentioning Baltimore, or their extra dinner guest. Abby insisted that Gibbs and Mae clean up the dishes, which should've been his tip-off that she was scheming something else, but he was too content to notice. After he and Mae finished, he and Ducky guided her to the guest bedroom and administered a sedative, giving her the chance to have a deep and dreamless sleep before all hell broke loose tomorrow.

That's when Gibbs heard it. The nothing. Given the amount of people he had roaming around his house, he should've been able to hear them being boisterous somewhere, but he didn't. In fact, the only sound he heard was the dull echo of a Disney song coming from his bedroom.

'Wait...' he thought, 'what?'

Gibbs snuck down the hall to his room and through the crack in his door saw something he never thought he'd see. At the end of the day, Abby's family used to curl up on her parent's bed and chat before retiring to their own rooms, and it seemed that Abby wanted that same feeling for her friends tonight. Though, she seemed to have them wrangled in Gibbs' bed with the promise of a movie, and how she managed to make them believe that Gibbs' bedroom was the right place to set up Tony's TV, Gibbs would never know.

Abby had her back against the headboard and her legs curled up in front of her, forming a perfect pillow for Tony. He was spread horizontally across the bed face up on Abby's lap with her fingers stroking through his mussed hair. Ziva and McGee were at opposite corners on the foot of the bed, with McGee looking very uncomfortable as he sat cross-legged, so close to the edge that Gibbs was almost sure McGee would tumble off if he wasn't paying attention. Ziva looked far more at home, probably having been subjected to Abby-talks under these circumstances before. She was upright, but with one leg spread out as though she were stretching.

They peaceably watched the movie for a few more minutes while Gibbs watched them. About the time Ducky finished with Mae and joined Gibbs at the door, Abby found the will speak. "Tony, I know you don't want to talk about it, and don't worry, I'm not gonna ask! I just, we all ... if you _need_ to talk about it, or ever feel ready, we're all here for you."

Tony broke his gaze from whatever antics the three fairies were up to on screen and reached up to stroke his thumb across Abby's cheek. "I know, Abs. You guys being there to listen has never been the problem, it's me not wanting to talk about it."

"But why?" Abby shot McGee a death glare for asking any questions after she'd just promised as team proxy that they wouldn't.

Tony twisted a little to meet Tim's eye and snapped, "Because I,-" Tony bit back whatever retort he'd formed for McGee upon seeing the concern in his wide eyes. McGee wasn't asking to be a brat, or to get munitions against Gibbs, it was genuine. He was just trying to understand his friend. Tony leaned back to look at Ziva and caught the same genuineness in her face that was in McGee. Even after all this time he still found himself blown away by how much they cared.

He heaved a sigh to summon his courage and said, "Because I screwed up Tim. I screwed up and good people died to fix it. None of us like to remember the times when losing might have been better than winning."

Tony leaned into Abby's gentle hand running through his hair, and secure that they wouldn't be walking away from him no matter what he said, told the story. "The Macaluso boys had never really understood their father's grand plan for me. They thought I was just a dirty cop he wasn't making full use of. So when Mike killed a marine and Gibbs came in, the boys decided it was time I earn my keep. They did their research and realized that Gibbs was incorruptible, and if he found a way to make Mike pay, he would, and no amount of money or threats would stop him.

"My captain sent me out as liaison officer to work with Gibbs, but I didn't find out until days later that it was at the Macaluso's order."

"Tony-" Abby made a shushing noise at McGee, obviously worried that any questions might prevent him from finishing at all. "Abby I _can't_! I _have_ to ask!"

Tony could feel Abby tensing underneath him so he stroked her knee and asked with a smirk, "Whatcha wondering about, Probie?"

"Why did Gibbs work with you? He hates local LEOs, and, well..."

Tony snorted and finished for him, "He _definitely_ must not have liked over-cocky, younger me? And even if he did, he'd stop the second he found out people thought I was dirty?"

He knew without looking that McGee had the grace to blush at his question, but Tony answered it anyway. "I told you already McGee, I smiled."

Abby gave a little tug to Tony's hair for sassing McGee, to which Tony laughed and said, "Abs, if you're gonna start pulling on my hair we're gonna need to move to a different bed with less people." She Gibbs-slapped him on the top of the head and Tony went back to his explanation.

"Probsert, I got to the crime scene a little after Gibbs, but by the time I got there the detectives who called Gibbs in had already warned him about me being dirty and how he should kick me to the curb as soon as he got the chance. One of the guys who tattled to Gibbs didn't actually think I was corrupt, he just wanted the chance to work with Gibbs and I got in the way."

Ziva muttered something under her breath than sounded suspiciously close to 'bastard', and Tony smiled at her for it. "He stopped me at the edge of the scene, called me a couple of names, and told me that he'd warned Gibbs about me so I should just leave then and not 'bother to do my master's bidding'. I told him that I'd go when my orders told me to. Neither of us knew that Gibbs was listening to the conversation."

"So did you smile at the guy threatening you or something?" said a frustrated McGee.

Tony laughed again and continued, "Probably, but that's not the smile that mattered. After I'd made my introductions to Gibbs, he was a bastard, and I decided to give him some breathing room leaving him with Ducky and the body, the dead marine's girlfriend came to the scene."

The whole team flinched at that piece of information and Tony responded, "Yeah, Gibbs was royally pissed. One of the cops was friends with the dead marine and called the girlfriend as soon as he found out who the victim was. I'm pretty sure Gibbs made the guy cry. But, the girlfriend turned up, Gibbs was busy, and the weasel who was trying to throw me under the bus directed her to me."

Tony, and his aversion to speaking well of himself on things that actually mattered, paused trying to figure out how to tell the next part of the story, but Ziva put it together. "You treated her like a person, not like a stepping stone. Gibbs liked the way you smiled at her."

He blushed a little, but nodded at Ziva's interpretation. "A couple months later I heard him tell Morrow that that's when he knew he was gonna hire me. He said a cop who could talk to people like I could talk to her didn't deserve to be in a place like that."

Abby sniffled and said, "Tony that's so sweet! I've been telling you guys all along that Gibbs has a soft and squishy center wrapped up inside that crusty bastard coating." The serious moment was completely broken by the group laughing at Abby's comment, while outside the door Gibbs blushed at Abby's interpretation of him.

"Yeah well, Gibbs didn't tell me to get the hell away from his case when I went to report about the girlfriend, and he kept me around. I didn't know it at the time, but he had Blackadder running just as many background searches on me as she was on the victim, and Ducky, being Ducky, managed to accidentally pry way more information out of me than I meant to give.

"The case started on Monday morning, and by the time Tuesday afternoon rolled around we managed to pick up some trace, that led us to a witness, that led us to a description that matched Mike Macaluso. I warned Gibbs that we'd have to call the Macaluso family attorney to get anywhere near him, but we tried anyway, which sent Mike into hiding like the terrified, guilty, bastard he was.

"Wasn't Gio mad that you wanted to bring his son in for questioning?"

"Nah, he knew Mike was too far gone to be any good to the family. The brothers were less than pleased though. I got a phone call or two over the week telling me to do something to mess up the case, but I just kept telling them that I took my orders from their father, not them."

Gibbs slowly swung the bedroom door open at that lie and announced himself by saying, "If you're gonna tell them the story Tony, tell them the _whole_ story." The entire team tensed at Gibbs' presence, obviously certain he was going to chew them all out for congregating on his bed. Tony popped up, taking his head off Abby's lap and fidgeting nervously. He pointed at Abby and said, "It was all her idea, Boss."

Gibbs fought back the desire to roll his eyes, and his pain at interrupting what had been a peaceful moment among his team. He stepped in the room, leaving Ducky to take a spot on a comfortable reading chair by the foot of the bed. There was another chair next to the first, obviously where the team assumed Gibbs would settle in. But instead, Gibbs toed off his shoes and sat himself cross-legged on the foot of the bed, much to the bafflement of his team.

"Gio started calling Tony on that Monday afternoon, asking that he come to dinner. By the time we figured out that Mike was involved, Gio was demanding that Tony come in to report. DiNozzo kept the phone calls from me, so I wasn't with him when Gio's men dragged him off from the police parking lot."

Abby smacked Tony on the back of the head and demanded, "Why didn't you tell him, Tony?"

Tony flinched at the hit more than he needed to and replied, "It wasn't that big a deal Abs. Gio just told me that his boys were gonna come down hard on me for getting involved."

Gibbs snorted at Tony's choice of words. "DiNozzo, he warned you that his boys were out of control and they wanted you to lay off or they'd kill you."

Ziva hissed at the threat and demanded, "You told Gibbs about this, yes?"

Tony couldn't quite meet Ziva's gaze as he stuttered, "Well, not in so many words, no."

Gibb interjected, "DiNozzo didn't tell me a damn thing! When the brothers figured out that Tony wasn't gonna play ball, they turned on the lab tech who ran all the evidence for us. He was the only person in the whole office that DiNozzo trusted implicitly to not corrupt the evidence. They tried threatening the kid to destroy evidence, and when that didn't work-"

Tony popped to a sitting position and defended, "There was no proof that they were involved in that, Boss!"

"That's because they covered it up too damn well, Tony! But everyone in the whole freaking department knew they were behind it!"

The tension rapidly rose between the two men to levels that made them all nervous and McGee couldn't help but step in. "What? Did the guy get fired or something?" Ziva fought back the desire to groan at McGee's attempt at humor. Judging by the pain in Tony's eyes, the story hadn't ended well.

"Bastards forced him off the road on the way home and he died in the crash." Gibbs spat out.

"We don't _know_ that!"

"We damn well do!" Ziva wasn't sure how they'd both snapped so quickly, dissolving into what must be an age-old argument between them, a stark counterpoint to the open conversation the team had been having with Tony before Gibbs entered.

"You know it as well as I do, DiNozzo! They had that kid killed to try and make us back off!"

Tony sank back against Gibb's headboard, looking like he'd been slapped. When his words finally came, Tony sounded tortured, "Don't you think I know that, Boss?"


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N:** Moving, and work, and school starting soon have all come back for a vengeance, so I hope you can all forgive me for the delay in replying to reviews. I can't tell you how much I LOVE getting them, particularly from you beautiful people who review every chapter, and especially from those who come out and review for the first time! Ya'll bring me joy in a very hectic world. And now, on to the story!

* * *

/"You know it as well as I do, DiNozzo! They had that kid killed to try and make us back off!"

Tony sank against Gibbs' headboard, looking like he'd been slapped. When his words finally came, Tony sounded tortured, "Don't you think I know that, Boss?"/

Gibbs sighed and shook his head, "We've been over this, DiNozzo. There was nothing you could've done."

/Flashback/

_The squad room was eerily silent by the time Gibbs checked there. It was close to _

_2:00 am, but there were still plenty of uniforms and detectives there pretending to work on their own cases, but not a one of them was talking. _

_One of their own had been murdered, and the fact that he had been a lab tech that most of them had treated like dirt didn't factor into that equation. The kid (whose smile had reminded Gibbs so much of Abby that it made his heart clench) had died in a car crash on his way home a few hours ago. Dents on the side of his car that hadn't smashed through the guardrail indicated that there had been a collision, and though there was black paint indented in the marks, Gibbs was positive neither would do any good. There was no evidence that the kid's death had been more than an accident, but everyone on the force knew he'd been run off the road, and why._

_That Gibbs had gotten a call about the death from a twitchy rookie instead of Tony was proof positive that Tony was somewhere spiraling off the deep end. Gibbs checked Tony's apartment, his gym, his frat brother's house (the brother that Tony didn't realize Gibbs knew about yet), and finally went to the precinct hoping Tony would be holed up there. _

_Eventually Gibbs found him behind the dead tech's desk, hiding in a blind spot to any passers by. Judging by the smell on his breath and the level of scotch still left in the bottle, Tony had spent the time since he found about the murder getting himself shit-faced._

_Tony didn't look up when Gibbs sat down beside him and took his own long draw on the bottle. They both sat that way for a few minutes, passing the bottle back and forth, Gibbs waiting for Tony to speak. _

_When he finally eeked out the words, they were painfully hollow. "I got him killed, Gibbs. The boys murdered him 'cause they wanted to get to me. I got an innocent man killed."_

_"Like hell ya did, DiNozzo." Tony just snorted and took another drink from the bottle. _

_"It wasn't an accident."_

_Gibbs smacked Tony upside the back of the head and retorted with sarcasm, "No, DiNozzo, 'cause I'm a probie who's never seen this happen before." _

_Tony tightened his grip on the bottle, his tone getting sharper, "Gibbs, if you could back off the bastardness for a while, that would be great. I'm really not in the mood." Gibbs breathed a mental sigh of relief. Tony was fighting, and fighting was good. Fighting meant the grief and the guilt hadn't swallowed him whole._

_"No, I think I'll assume whatever level of bastard I need to get you to stop wallowing." _

_The tip of Tony's mouth curled into the slightest of grins at that, "'Wallowing', Gibbs? Seriously?"_

_"Would you prefer it if I called you a narcissistic shit-head?" _

_Tony turned and glared at Gibbs, "I'd be surprised that you were using a polysyllabic word." _

_Tony reached to snatch the bottle from Gibbs' grip, but he pulled it out range. "The world doesn't revolve around you, DiNozzo."_

_"Screw you, Gibbs!" Tony lunged for the bottle this time, leaving him just off balance enough for Gibbs to haul him out of his self-imposed exile and wrap his arms around the drowning man. Tony thrashed in the embrace struggling to free himself, but Gibbs' grip was too good. "Let me GO!"_

_Gibbs just tightened his hold, letting the fight wear out of DiNozzo. Tony calmed far too quickly, and Gibbs had the nerve to chuckle in Tony's ear and say, "I'm not gonna let you go just 'cause you're playing dead." That started a whole new round of struggles, but eventually Tony gave way with a sigh._

_DiNozzo had worked himself into an awkward lean, with his back to Gibbs' chest and his arms successfully pinned. There was no way he was escaping Gibbs' hold until Gibbs deemed fit to let him go. He tugged the boy tighter against his chest and firmly said, "I'm not gonna let you drink yourself into oblivion, DiNozzo, and if this is the only way I can get through to you, then that's how we'll do it." _

_"My friend _died_, Gibbs! Don't you get that! He died 'cause I was too stubborn to lay off!"_

_"Even if you backed off, you honestly think you would've been able to stop me from pursuing the case, DiNozzo?"_

_Tony struggled again, muttering under his breath something about 'damn right I could.' But answered aloud, "If I backed off they wouldn't have gone after my friend, no matter what you did!"_

_"And where would it stop Tony? How many cases would you throw 'cause they threatened you?"_

_"As many as it damn well took, Gibbs! They killed my friend!" _

_Gibbs shifted Tony and pulled him tighter to his chest, "You don't mean that."_

_"Well I'm obviously not as good a guy as you thought I was, Gibbs!" _

_"No Tony, this isn't about good, this is about stubborn. Right now you're drunk off your ass and you can't see straight your heart hurts so much, but in the morning you're gonna be pissed. You're gonna want to hunt down whichever Macaluso went after your friend and kill them yourself. You're a fighter, Tony. Good or not, you _know_ you couldn't have let them get away with murder, and you won't let them do it this time."_

/End Flashback/

"You both did the right thing, DiNozzo. You couldn't have known he'd get killed for it, and you and I both know he would've traded his life to get Mike behind bars. Bastard is a serial killer."

Tony sunk back further against the headboard, "Yeah, but _I_ wouldn't have traded his life."

"Well Tony, I wouldn't have traded _yours_, so get that idea out of your head." Abby smacked Tony on the side of the head for emphasis to Gibbs' words. Tony didn't quite react to the head slap, but kept his eyes trained on Gibbs. There was only the slightest flickers of facial movement between the two of them, the little twitches that proved they were arguing with one another, but in a way that no one else could hear, just like they always did.

"They, they killed a cop?" McGee was too horrified to pay any real attention to the silent conversation before him. He was still baffled by humanity's depravity even after all these years.

"He was a lab tech, Probie, but yeah."

The argument between Gibbs and Tony as stilled for a moment as the presence of the rest of the team brought them back to the story at hand. "Idiot that he is, DiNozzo still didn't tell me about the threats he was getting from the Macaluso boys, so I didn't know he was in danger."

"What did they do, Gibbs?" Ziva had all her attention focused on Gibbs, much to Tony's irritation.

"Hey! I'm the one telling the story!" Ziva just snorted, clearly conveying her disbelief that Tony would tell them all the good parts, and that's what they were there to find out.

"We went to question Gio at his house, get from him Mike's location, but every damn Macaluso son was there to greet us." Gibbs shuffled a little, uncomfortable with how things went down. "They didn't give Mike up, I lost my temper, and the whole think turned into a ..."

From his spot on the comfy armchair Ducky piped in, "A clusterfuck."

The younger agents all stifled laughs at Ducky's sudden turn to the crass, but Gibbs nodded his agreement with Ducky's choice of phrase.

"Yeah, that pretty much covers it."

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah, I know. That's two chapters in a row that I've ended at an unfortunate spot, but it had to be done. Applications for internships are demanding my linguistic attention and any other brain cells are being consumed by moving. Don't worry, the last part of this little back story interlude just needs some brushing up and should be posted before Saturday. I'll try and make it worth the wait!


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N:** So when the lovely people who provide my internet transferred it to the new house, they said they'd turn it off Monday around noon and back on Monday around two. Apparently in a real world translation that meant off sometime around midnight on Friday and back on sometime wretchedly early on Thursday. This is my apology for the posting delay.

* * *

"Yeah, that pretty much covers it."

"What happened?" Abby demanded.

Ducky stepped in to answer before Gibbs had the chance to implicate himself. "Jethro lost his temper when Agent Williams stormed into the room and demanded that Gibbs leave his mafia charges alone."

Ziva gave feral grin, "He _demanded_ something of _Gibbs_?"

Ducky gave a chortle at the anticipatory gleam in Ziva's eyes, "Yes, as you can imagine, Jethro didn't take it well. While Gibbs was explaining the proper functioning of the agent hierarchy to the rather daft young man, Alexander Macaluso-"

"Shot DiNozzo."

Tony flinched at Abby and McGee's joint gasps and Ducky glared at Gibbs with a look that gushed, 'You couldn't have found a gentler way to break that?'

McGee sputtered out, "H-How did that happen?"

"And how did I not know about it!" Abby furiously tagged on.

"It wasn't that bad a shot, Abs." She Gibbs-slapped Tony for that, and at his shocked glare she answered, "Gibbs was looking at you like you were lying. Now, how did this happen?"

Tony rushed the words out before any other party had the chance to answer. "Alex claimed he pulled his gun when he thought his protection 'and very dear friend' was being threatened." Tony swung his voice to an aristocratic simper in imitation. "His gun went off and the bullet caught me in the side."

Gibbs muttered a string of marine-worthy cursing at Tony's choice of phrasing and spat out, "He **shot** you, Tony!"

"That's what I said, Boss."

Gibbs nearly bit through his tongue to stop himself from reaming DiNozzo, and Ziva seized the pause. "Why is this man not in prison?"

Tony shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "FBI didn't think it was worth pursuing. Which just proves, Boss, that it wasn't that big a thing." Tony rushed on in the face of Gibbs' flaring temper.

From over his steepled fingers Ducky pronounced, "_Post hoc ergo propter hoc_, Anthony." Tony rolled his eyes at being scolded in Latin, but Gibbs knew Tony remember things a hell of a lot differently than he was letting on.

_/Flashback/_

_Gibbs was nose to nose with Williams, slowly backing the whelp away from Tony. He'd been too busy being a wall between Tony and those cowards who would do him harm to notice Alex slipping a small gun from his pocket and taking a rushed shot. Alex had never been the family gunman, so his aim was off and the bullet only nailed Tony in the side, though Gibbs was sure Alex had been aiming for Tony's heart. _

_That shot echoed around Gibbs, swallowing everything, and in a heartbeat, which Gibbs had been sure was Tony's last, he leveled his gun in between Alex's eyes. Gibbs only needed a flinch, a breath, a blink, any beat of movement to call the shooting justified, but Alex didn't give him that relief. There was a flicker of joy in Alex's eyes, but then he dropped his gun and shouted for someone to call 911. Alex was all tears and desperation, pretending that the shot had been purely accidental. _

_But when Alex slithered forward to press his hands to the wound on Tony's chest as a further false testament to his remorse, Gibbs pressed the gun to Alex's temple. The threat was whisper soft so Gibbs could deny his statements to anyone who told the lawyers, but it was heartfelt. "You touch him again, and I won't wait for a reason." _

_Alex was about to spit back something derisive, letting his true colors show in their hushed conversation, but Gibbs thrust the gun harder against his head, and Alex realized Gibbs was genuine in his hate. He stepped back to coddle Giovanni, who had collapsed on the floor the moment he saw the blood spurt from Tony._

_In an instant, Gibbs checked that Williams was on the phone, blinding panic in his eyes and keeping his words the pure truth to the dispatcher sending them a bus, then dove for Tony. His breath sounds were even, but short, and Gibbs knew he couldn't expect any different after the pain of being shot._

_Gibbs stripped off his overshirt, pressing it to Tony's wound and giving just a moment to thank the fates that he'd taken the time to go home and grab clean clothes. That was something he thought Tony would appreciate, so Gibbs shared it with him. Tony gave a faint smile then replied, "Now I understand why you're such a big fan of the polos, Boss. My shirts don't soak up this well."_

_Gibbs knew that Tony was really asking him how bad it was, and gave him the best answer he could. "Looks worse than it is."_

_"Really, Boss? 'Cause it looks pretty bad from here."_

_"That's 'cause you're a pansy, DiNozzo."_

_"Pretty sure this is one of those times I'm allowed to be a pansy, Boss." _

_Tony's breaths started getting shallower, and Gibbs shouted "What's the ETA?" Williams, who was nestled in a corner and so petrified he was vibrating, didn't respond. "Special Agent Williams!" Gibbs hollered, "What's the ETA on the bus!"_

_"F-Five minutes, Gibbs." Jethro twisted around, contorting his torso while still keeping constant pressure on Tony's chest and met Williams' eyes. The frightened bunny-rabbit of a man couldn't think for himself at the moment, so Gibbs gave him something to focus on. Very slowly Gibbs ordered, "Go down to the entrance by the doorman, and show the EMTs how to get here. Can you do that for me, Agent?"_

_"Y-yes, sir." Williams scampered off, and out of the corner of his vision Gibbs noticed Alexander sending one of his younger brothers along to help, obviously not quite trusting that Williams could do the job himself, and now operating with the sure knowledge that his life was tied to Tony's. _

_"H-Hurts, Boss."_

_"Well Tony, getting shot will do that to ya." Tony grimaced, and Gibbs knew that they'd passed the pain point where Tony still found him funny. So Gibbs tried comforting, "Don't worry Tony, it'll stop hurting soon." _

_Tony's eyes widened at that and his breathing dissolved into panicked pants. Gibbs didn't grasp how that must have sounded until Tony gasped out, "Am I, am I dying Gibbs?" Gibbs was too startled by the sudden plunge into fear to respond, and Tony took that as an affirmative. "'Cause if I'm gonna die, Boss, I need you to tell some things to some people for me. Not, ya know, anyone at work, or my family really. Though I'd appreciate it if you paid a courtesy call to my father." _

_Gibbs pressed harder against Tony's chest to stop him from rambling, more than a little heartbroken that his nurturing had gone so far out to pasture, and demanded, "Did I give you permission to die, DiNozzo?"_

_"No, Boss."_

_Their talking ceased as Tony struggled to keep his fear at bay and his breathing even. Gibbs thought it would be best to keep himself quiet since his concern usually came out as rage, and though under normal circumstances it seemed to work for Tony, he didn't respond well to it while he was in pain. _

_Gibbs' polo shirt soaked up Tony's blood well, and there was far too much of it to absorb according to Gibbs. Tony's blood was vibrant red, just like the rest of him. His vivid color bled into the pale khaki of Gibbs' shirt, the two colors merging and spreading a sickly stain through the fabric. Jethro's stomach churned at the sight. From the center full of crimson the color drifted and paled to a foul amber, the further away from Tony the lifeblood ran, the more grotesque it became. Gibbs couldn't bring himself to look at Tony's face with his color waning and his eyes closed, so he focused on that stain, but it brought no comfort._

_The EMTs scampered through the door and took over the Tony saving, gently pushing Gibbs out of the way so they could get to work. Gibbs sat on his heels for a moment, watching them patch Tony together enough for transport, realizing that though they were moving in a rush, they weren't in the panic that comes with a man condemned to die, and Gibbs drew peace from that._

_He waited until the EMTs had Tony safely bundled on a stretcher and out of the room before he rose from his heels and pointed his Sig between Giovanni's eyes. The distraught Italian froze at the sight and began to explain, "This was an accident, I would never want any harm to come to my-"_

_"__**Mine**__. Let's make that clear now. Whatever he was before I stepped into this city doesn't matter anymore. Tony is my agent, under my protection, and beyond your reach."_

_Giovanni had the audacity to snicker at Gibbs, but the click of Gibbs' safety in the silent room was enough to bring him to heel. "Use those resources of yours to look me up Gio, see if I'm the sort of man who'll let you get away with hurting what's mine."_

_Alexander stepped in between Gibbs and his father, pretending to put himself in the path of the bullet, but in reality just enough to left of center to get nothing more than a little blood spatter on that fine suit should Gibbs kill his father. "This was an accidental discharge Agent Gibbs, you have nothing to accuse us of."_

_Gibbs grinned, feral and menacing. "I'm sure Tony would say something along the lines of, 'they put one of yours in the hospital, you put one of theirs in the morgue,' but I'm not in a shooting mood today. So Tony's going to recover nicely from his bullet wound, and your brother is going to spend the rest of his life on death row for being a serial killer, and we're done with one another."_

_Gibbs flipped his gun up, with his finger off the trigger in the universal sign of parlay, and asked, "Deal?"_

_Giovanni simply nodded, and Gibbs walked out their apartment desperately hoping the bargain would hold._

_/End Flashback/_

Tony didn't know about the deal Gibbs had struck with Giovanni, Gibbs didn't figure it was worth communicating since Tony would probably be wracked with some fool notion that he wasn't worth the exchange. Tony was right about his wound, it bled more than Gibbs would've liked, but no veins or arteries were nicked, and no internal organs punctured; just a clean through and through.

Tony pretended that's all he could really remember of the injury, but a time or two when Tony was too drunk to keep track of his tongue he'd confessed how he remembered demanding that the EMTs wait for Gibbs before they left for the hospital, and how he'd clung to Gibbs' hand until they moment they sedated him.

Gibbs let Tony have his pretend with the others, knowing full well that they could piece the truth together for themselves. Gibbs merely raised his eyebrow and calmly stated across his team "No, DiNozzo. It _was_ a 'big thing'.

XXXXXXX

Gibbs let them settle back in on his bed and watch their Disney movie, and chose to ignore the fullness in his heart at the knowledge that Kelly's favorite movie was being played in his house again. Ducky joined him in the basement after the conclusion of the conversation, calmly sitting on a sawhorse, sipping his mason jar of bourbon, and not making a peep.

Eventually McGee and Ziva crept down the stairs, both looking slightly disheveled from what Gibbs was sure had devolved into several Abby-organized group hugs. Both of his agents took up spots against Gibbs' workbench, nervously waiting for him to turn around and acknowledge their presence. He didn't turn away from his boat, but he spoke, "The other two asleep?"

"Yeah, and Tony will be mad in the morning that he missed Prince Phillip slaying Maleficent."

Gibbs didn't need to turn to know Ziva must've fixed Tim with a withering glare to which he replied, "What?"

"How do you know all those names?"

McGee responded in a tone that declared that as the stupidest question ever, "I have a baby sister, and I was a good brother."

Gibbs heard the slosh of his bourbon bottle, knowing that Ziva was taking a drink to summon up the courage to ask him whatever they'd come to the basement to pester him about with all their sounds. But when the voice came, it was McGee, which Gibbs hadn't been expecting. "Boss, if you want, we can plan a team trip to California." When Gibbs didn't stop sanding, McGee kept going, striving to make himself both as clear and as vaguely non-incriminating as possible. "My parents still have a house out there, we could spend a couple of days. Get Abby a black bathing suit, teach her to surf."

Ziva scoffed, "'Bathing suit', McGee?"

"What? It's proper!"

"McGee, I barely speak your language and I know that is not part of the modern vernacular."

Gibbs interrupted before they both had the chance to really get going, "And why would we need a team vacation, McGee?"

Gibbs could feel McGee fidget behind him, and he knew the agents thought Gibbs was being cruel by not looking at him, but he thought it was a lot more sympathetic considering his eyes were likely to strip the truth right out them before they had the chance to form it properly.

"It's not that we _need_ the vacation, Gibbs. It's that it we all felt like taking one, ya know, someplace far away … with plenty of witnesses."

At that Gibbs stopped sanding, but Ziva carried on. "We _want_ to take the vacation, Gibbs. Pile all of us on a long military transport flight where several people can attest to our presence, and while we are safely in California anything can happen on the east coast and we won't be blamed for it."

"'Anything', Ziver?"

She stepped forward to the boat, firmly staring at Gibb's profile and repeated, "Anything. Abby's not the only one good at her job."

"Not your job anymore."

She sighed at him and Tim stepped up to the other side. "No offense Boss, but the job is stopping the bad guys and protecting the good. This falls under that heading." Gibbs had to be impressed that Tim didn't look like he was going to faint from standing up to Gibbs.

"I know it is not how you would prefer to conduct this Gibbs, but we thought it might be simpler to let me use one of my older methods. They will not be as cathartic, but the job will still be done."

"'We' thought?"

"The three of us, Jethro." Gibbs finally pulled his attention away from the boat to stare at Ducky and the first words he'd spoken in the last hour. "We decided that anything that bore a mark of something you had training in could be construed as your doing, even if you were no where near it. Something unique would be best."

"Duck…" was all Gibbs could manage to let out before words failed him.

Ducky took the reins of the conversation and began bustling the other two agents out of the basement in his wake. "We, of course, shall wait for your signal Jethro, and whether you decide to signal or not, know that you have the option."

* * *

**A/N:** _post hoc ergo propter hoc_ is latin for 'after the thing therefore because of it'. Meaning that because the second thing followed the first it was caused by the first, which is usually faulty logic.


	28. Chapter 27

Abby and Tony had returned to their own apartments bright and early after being woken by the smell of industrial strength coffee from Gibbs' kitchen. Tony hadn't quite met Gibbs' eyes the whole time he rushed through his bacon and eggs, and if Gibbs didn't know any better, he would've thought Tony was blushing. Abby didn't seem to mind at all that she'd fallen asleep in her Boss' bed, wrapped around one of the few people on the planet that that same Boss would flay alive for sleeping with her.

Gibbs made it to the office at his regular time of disgustingly early, riding a high of coffee mixed with Abby's praise for his cooking. He sat down at his desk, deleted every e-mail in his trash file, then scrolled through the 'Things You Should Read' file, then through the 'Really, Boss, You Should Read These' file, deleting them all, and then actually read everything in the 'Stuff From the Team' file. (McGee set up the filing system on Gibbs' computer, but Tony named them all.)

After that he started sorting through requisition form pile on his desk, signing all the places where Tony had put sticky notes, then put them all in the slot labeled 'Inter-Office', but everyone with half a brain knew all those files crossed Tony's desk again before he sent them out in the mail (otherwise some nasty things got said to the people in Personnel). Gibbs couldn't actually remember the last time he'd done his own paperwork that wasn't case files or Team Reviews.

On this morning Gibbs shuffled contentedly through his paperwork, ignoring the irritation that usually accompanied anything that wasn't for an active case. Today he was exuding an impressive amount of patience for him while waiting for Fornell to turn up. Gibbs was peacefully basking in the sure knowledge that either Fornell would be stepping off that elevator in a few minutes with Williams in tow, or Gibbs got to shoot Williams.

Either way, a good morning in Gibbs' book.

McGee made it in first this morning, attempting exchange pleasantries before he realized Gibbs was in one of those moods where sound was a bad life choice for those around him. Ziva came next, and saw the warning glance from McGee, so she kept any thoughts to herself. Tony came last, dashing off the elevator two minutes late and wisely choosing to not acknowledge the fact. All three of them settled in with their paperwork, hearing desk phones ring all over the bullpen, summoning other agents out to cases, but completely bypassing the MCRT despite the fact that the kidnapping case should officially be considered closed. (No one needed to mention that Tony had had a chat with dispatch the night before, warning them that Gibbs wasn't going to be in the mood to pick up a new case the next morning.)

Around Gibbs' third cup of coffee, the team started to get twitchy. They all started checking their phones and exchanging e-mails with friends at the FBI to see if anyone at the Hoover building had heard from Fornell that morning. Right about the moment McGee started to vibrate he was so nervous about what Gibbs was planning to do if Fornell didn't turn up, the elevator doors opened to reveal a vision in a cheap suit.

"Tobias, thought maybe you'd forgotten about our little party."

Fornell had his hand clenched over the back of Williams' neck, dragging him out of the elevator, with another agent who looked better built to be a bouncer tagging along beside. "Oh you know me, Jethro. Always fashionably late." Gibbs stood up to seize custody of Williams but Fornell help up a hand to get him to wait. "Your lawyers will be yelling at my lawyers for the next hour, depending on who wins, that might me all the time you've got."

Gibbs just snorted, with full understanding that Fornell would never be stupid enough to let a criminal know when their out time was in an interrogation. Fornell was setting up a pressure cooker scenario, hoping that whatever training the FBI had given the little lout would crack in the face of Gibbs when that hour mark ticked past and he thought he'd been left on his own. Gibbs wasn't going to need the full hour, but it was nice of Tobias to think about it anyway.

Fornell hauled Williams into interrogation, and then despite his pleading look, left him in there alone with Gibbs. The whole team, plus Fornell, piled into the viewing room and set themselves up for a show. This was one of the many times that DiNozzo wished they kept a microwave and bags of popcorn in the viewing room, since snacks really would've completely the Gibbs-watching experience.

Gibbs left Williams in his seat and sauntered up to the one-way glass, examining his appearance. The team watched him adjust the sleeves of his jacket in silence, then when Gibbs moved to fiddle with his hair McGee exclaimed, "He's doing 'A DiNozzo'!"

Tony whirled to face his teammates and said, "The office named that after me?"

Ziva shrugged, "You do it better than everyone else."

McGee was so close to the glass his face was nearly plastered against it while he kept murmuring, "This is impossible. Gibbs is doing a Tony. This can't be happening." But it really was. Gibbs knew anyone in the office worth two cents referred to ignoring the interviewee while pretending to be a playboy was referred to as 'A DiNozzo', while the fools of the office referred to it as 'The Jackass'. Although, anyone who called it that didn't call it that for long. (You had to be a special brand of crazy to not realize that Gibbs. Knew. Everything. That happened in his office.)

Gibbs kept using the glass as a mirror, but gave just a flick of his eyes to the camera in the corner. In the viewing room Tony kept his eyes on Gibbs but said, "McGee, do you know how to turn off the red light on the camera without cutting the feed?"

"Yeah…" he answered hesitantly.

"Get it ready, then wait for the signal to cut it off."

"What signal.?

Tony turned away from Gibbs for just a moment before venting, "I'm not hearing typing, McGee!"

Tim dashed to the computer and typed in the backdoor code while demanding of Tony, "Why are we doing this."

"Cause Gibbs told us to."

"How?"

"Didn't you see that little glance he gave the camera?"

"No!"

"Well, he gave one. And that means he wants you prepped to turn the camera off."

"How do you know that?"

"How do you know how to turn the light off on the camera, McGee? Some stuff you just know."

"I know how to turn the light off because I graduated from MIT, Tony!"

"And I graduated from the school of Gibbs."

McGee went to shout something back, but Ziva placed a restraining hand on his arm, knowing that whatever was about to come tumbling of McGee mouth would come out wrong, and only do harm. She interceded with a real question, "Why does Gibbs want the light off?"

"So Williams will think we turned the camera off."

He could tell his junior agents were exchanging a glance behind him, and Ziva asked what McGee wanted to but couldn't manage in a polite tone, "Why are we turning off the light and not the whole camera?"

Fornell snorted, more than a little disdainful of how by-the-book Gibbs' agents could still be sometimes. "Because you never turn off the camera for something you might get sued for."

McGee asked, "What?"

Tony caught Fornell's eye in the reflection of the mirror, asking with a slight grin to just teach them for a moment and not snark at them. With a sigh Fornell answered, "A good rule of thumb is to only turn off the light when you're trying to protect the agent, and turn off the camera when you're trying to protect the person you're interviewing."

Tony kept his eyes on Gibbs the whole time, but Ziva still asked him, "What's the signal you're waiting for?"

"Gibbs is waiting for Williams to be panicking before he pushes him over the edge, and I'm waiting for Gibbs to give me 'the smirk'."

McGee couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore and disdainfully asked, "What's 'the smirk'?"

"It's … I mean, it's _the _smirk." Tony turned and looked to Fornell who just nodded and said, "I know which one you mean. The one where he," and gave a pale imitation of 'the smirk' to which Tony emphatically nodded and said, "Exactly!"

Tony turned back to the glass just in time to hear Williams stutter out, "Aren't you going to ask me any questions?" and Tony saw Gibbs give the signal in question. In turn, Tony announced, "It's time McGee." There was some muttering, but McGee turned off the light.

Gibbs caught the change of the light in the reflection off the glass and adjusted his hair one last time before turning and muttering, "Nope."

He carelessly plunked down on the other chair and pulled out his cell phone, starting the arduous process of typing up a text message. His resolve to break Williams was strengthened by the sheer fact that he didn't want to have to spend the next hour fighting with his damn phone. "Why not?"

Gibbs flicked his gaze up over the phone and broke into a luminescent laugh worthy of Tony. "Because I don't want you to cooperate."

Williams started to look bore baffled than scared and asked, "Why the hell not?"

"_Language_, Special Agent Williams. This is a government building." Gibbs sent his text and flicked his phone shut while on the other side of the glass McGee muttered, "Ten says that he's gonna let Williams hang himself."

Ziva snorted, "Twenty says he'll play the 'I'm a Scary Legend' card and let Williams crumble under the pressure."

Tony flipped shut his phone and retorted. "Twenty on the table smack and shout."

Williams actually had the temerity to look irritated with Gibbs and huff out, "Fine. Why don't you want me to cooperate?"

Gibbs' demeanor changed from ruthlessly pleased to violent so fast Williams looked ill. "Because people who don't cooperate don't get deals from the prosecutor."

"D-Deals? But I haven't done anything."

"Of course you have. You conspired with the Mafia, and as soon as my team finds some more conclusive evidence of that we'll have you up on charges."

"But there _isn't_ any evidence of that."

"Oh don't worry, there will be." A shudder passed through Williams before he could control it, and he looked helplessly at the camera, and then realized it seemed to be off. The blood drained from his face as Williams finally understand what Gibbs was willing to do to him.

"You wouldn't. You're _Gibbs_! Gibbs doesn't break the law!"

Jethro continued his little diatribe, completely ignoring Williams' outburst. "Of course, getting you put in prison for the rest of your natural born life, which I'm sure will be very short once Gen Pop realizes you're an ex-Fed, isn't what I'm really looking for. I'd like to come across you trying to flee with the Macaluso's aide sometime in the next few days, and then I can double-tap you in the heart and just be done with you."

All Williams could manage was a sputter and a look of absolute disbelief, "You wouldn't…"

Gibbs slammed his hand down on the table and shouted, "You betrayed your country and put my agents' lives on the line! You have **no idea** what I'd do!"

On the other side of the glass Tony chuckled and collected his winnings from his disbelieving teammates. "How do you always win?" McGee asked.

"Years and years of practice, Probie." Tony didn't feel the need to mention that Gibbs' text in interrogation had been to Tony telling him how to place his bet.

Williams was shrinking in on himself, terrified at being face with Gibbs in a near-homicidal rage. "But I'm not on the Macaluso's payroll, Gibbs!"

"Then explain to me why in the hell you started to check up on Maeve?"

Williams' words came out in a petrified rush, "My job is to take care of Giovanni and keep him out of trouble, he said he was worried about his girl and he wanted me to check up on her! I thought it was a sign he was finally trusting me!"

"Doesn't tell me why you taught Max Young how to kidnap Lieutenant Eli Snyder without any trace."

"I was just doing my job, Gibbs! I was protecting her!"

"From her boyfriend?" Gibbs spat back incredulously.

Williams replied sheepishly, "Gio said he was abusing her and needed to be stopped."

"_Gio said_? That was your only evidence? You were an accomplice to kidnapping because a Mob Boss said so?" Williams couldn't quite form a response to that and Gibbs stormed out of the room.

Fornell snickered to himself and said, "Don't you wish you could meet a twelve year old version of Gibbs and find out if he was always like that?"

Before Tony had the chance to share the snarky agreement on his lips Gibbs threw open the observation door and demanded, "McGee, get into interrogation and get Williams to remember every conversation he had with Macaluso about Eli, and pray the idiot at least had the common sense to record something! David, take another agent and get to the hospital, escort Eli and Maeve to a safehouse until this is done. DiNozzo, get someone at Baltimore who doesn't want you dead to tail Macaluso, I don't want to have to go hunting for him when we go to arrest him!"

The three agents scattered to their appointed tasks while Fornell patiently waited, letting Gibbs burn off some energy by pacing back and forth in observation. "You honestly think the Bureau is going to let you arrest Macaluso?"

"I think the Bureau's not going to have a choice."

"One phone call from my Director to yours and Eli's kidnapping will be swept under the rug."

"He'll talk to the media."

"And those outlets will get exclusive access to stories worth a hell of a lot more publicity than the tenuous connection you've got between Eli's abduction and the Macaluso family exerting control over the FBI."

"Is this you helping, Tobias?"

"No." Fornell pushed off the wall and stepped into Gibbs' path, meeting him nose to nose before explaining, "This is me making sure you understand that you've got to make this worse before you can make it better."

Gibbs just sighed, and Fornell finished, "And you're hoping DiNozzo doesn't come to the same conclusion." Gibbs' only reply was a grunt.


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N:** My profound thanks to you lovely people who keep reviewing, and especially to those new reviewers who've been popping up in the last few chapters. Thank you!

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Gibbs went to fill in the Director on the deluge of angry calls she was about to get for his supposed impertinence in arresting a Macalsuo. Jenn had been unnervingly deferential to the hell that was about to rain down on her head for letting Gibbs stomp off and ignore the big political picture in favor of his own smaller one. Again.

While he had a surprisingly easy go of it with Jenn, he knew his agents were scampering about the office to get their tasks completed before Gibbs came storming out of his meeting and went to arrest someone protected by Federal immunity. Gibbs knew McGee would finally find the will to apply pressure to their suspect in interrogation, because he wanted the information before he got left behind, and that Ziva would be desperately wrangling another team that Gibbs trusted to take over the protection detail, just because Ziva wanted a chance to have an 'accidental discharge' of her own. Tony wouldn't really need to rush because he'd know the exact amount of time it would take Gibbs to get out of Jenn's office, and the exact string of people he'd have to call to have enough leverage to get someone trustworthy to tail Gio, but not a good enough friend that they'd get killed for helping out Tony.

Gibbs' real intent behind Tony's task was to keep the wheels in that brain of his from having the time to spin. Given half the chance Tony would notice the exact same thing Fornell had: they needed Gio to screw up in a major way, or he wasn't ever going to prison. No matter what Gibbs did, Tony would realize the problem, but Gibbs wanted to delay that realization until after Gibbs came up with a plan of his own to prevent Tony from doing something stupid.

Because right now, cold-blooded murder was the only plan Gibbs had.

When Gibbs finally left Jenn's office, warrant in hand, and leaving a trail of implied bullshit about having a master plan in his wake, his agents were already geared up and waiting for him in the bullpen. They met him on the way to the elevator and Ziva quickly explained, "Agent Ayala and his team are heading with Maeve and Eli to the safe house."

McGee took his turn next, "Williams has several e-mails from one of the better Macaluso hit men giving him forensics instructions. The guy was good at covering his tracks, he sent the e-mails from an internet cafe, but the cafe had hidden cameras and we've got someone heading over with a warrant to pick the CDs up now so we can cross-reference with the time stamp on the e-mails and see who sent them."

"Who?" For the moment Gibbs was pretending to ignore that his team was foisting their responsibilities off on other agents just so they could be there when Gibbs shot Gio.

"Agent Riley went with his Senior Agent, Boss."

"DiNozzo?"

"Jack's on it. I'll get specifics when we get closer."

Gibbs slammed on the elevator's emergency stop button and whirled to face Tony. "Jack?"

Tony didn't even bother with a pro forma flinch at the outburst. He simply calmly relied, "Jack."

'Well ... shit.' Was all Gibbs could think. Tony had put it together faster than Gibbs had anticipated. Though really, he should've known better. After all the time Tony had spent dancing with the Macaluso family, he knew their operations inside and out, and knew exactly what would be needed to stop them. Tony had called Jack because he knew that whatever Gibbs' plan was, it was probably highly illegal, and they needed someone who wouldn't just do the job, they needed someone who would lie for them. And that was Jack.

Gibbs glared at Tony in all his overprotective fury, every breath of him demanding that Tony back down and not involve Jack. Because if push came to shove and Gibbs didn't come up with a plan to Tony's satisfaction, Tony would come up with one of his own, and Jack would go along with it. They needed the backup, they needed someone to swear on a stack of Bibles that whatever happened wouldn't be their fault, but Gibbs didn't want that aide to come at the expense of whatever backup plan Tony had roaming around that self-sacrificing brain of his.

"Call. Someone. Else." Gibbs demanded.

"Can't Boss. And you know it." Tony just slouched against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, looking every inch calm and collected about the whole thing. 'And damn him' Gibbs thought, 'he had every right to be'. They needed loyalty the shade of Jack with them in this fight, because right now a supposed connection to a Macaluso enforcer wasn't enough to arrest Gio for conspiracy. And without that loyalty, despite their soon to be dirty dealings, they could both spend their very short lives in Federal prison. (Or, at least, they would if Gibbs didn't have all the contacts he needed to get them out of the country, but he did.)

Gibbs kept his glare on Tony as he flicked the stop button, letting them all descend to the parking garage. The moment the doors slideopen Gibbs pronounced, "Get me an ID on the sender of those e-mails McGee, and find a connection to the Macalusos that we can trace. David, get to the safe house with Ayala and be prepared for it to get ugly."

After watching the silent string of glares between Gibbs and Tony, they both decided it was better not to protest. However, as they both stayed glued to their spots in the elevator while Tony and Gibbs disembarked, Ziva grabbed Gibbs' shoulder and said, "You still have the option." Gibbs gave a slight nod and ignored Tony's questioning glance, and headed for the car.

XXXXXXX

Tony gave ten minutes of falsely attentive listening to the radio before he finally succumbed to the desire to fidget and drove Gibbs crazy. Finally Gibbs reached over and smacked Tony upside the head. Tony gave one final fidget while muttering, "Sorry, Boss." but that couldn't keep Tony down for long.

Finally he just snapped and asked, "You got a plan, Boss?" Gibbs kept his eyes on the road, ardently ignoring Tony's question, which just got Tony to ramble some more. "'Cause if you don't have a plan Boss, I'm sure we could come up with something brilliant. I'll be Rusty to your Danny Ocean and we'll-"

"DiNozzo!"

"Yes, Boss?"

"Shut up."

Tony gave it another three minutes before inquiring, "So does that mean you _don't _have a plan Boss? 'Cause we've still got like fifteen minutes on this car ride, and that's plenty of time to come up with-"

Gibbs just growled in reply, and Tony finally shut up. He started to twitch again, fidgeting all around his seat, readjusting his jacket, and flipping all over the radio map. Gibbs gave it a few moments before mentioning, "You've never asked me for my plan before."

"We're about to walk into a den of people who want us both dead and arrest their patriarch for trying to make his daughter come home. You know I'll follow the plan Boss, I was just wondering if it was a little more involved than us walking in and demanding that Gio come along."

"I have a plan." Gibbs turned and met Tony's gaze, staring at him and trying to convince him of the truth of the lie. Tony nodded with a smile, but Gibbs knew Tony didn't believe him.

The rest of the ride was made in silence, They pulled up down the street from the swanky apartment building where Gio lived, catching a clear view of Jack perched on the hood of his car while a Macaluso henchman stood by, taking long draws on his cigarette. Gibbs put the car in park, knowing that both waiting men had noticed them.

"Do you know who he is?" Gibbs asked about the hired thug.

"Nope, but judging by the cut of his suit I'd say that he's one of Gio's favorites."

Gibbs stopped halfway out of the car to turn to Tony and ask incredulously, "You can tell that by the kind of _suit_ he's wearing?"

Tony laughed, "Boss, Gio wouldn't let a gunman in his presence who wasn't a good reflection of the amount of money Gio has floating around. And a gunman who didn't spend his time around Gio wouldn't dare to presume to look like he did."

Gibbs nodded at the flawed logic and the two men made their way down the street in perfect sync. As they were going Gibbs slowed his stride just a fraction and Tony matched him, giving Gibbs the extra time to ask, "_You _got a plan, DiNozzo?"

Tony flinched at Gibbs' perceptiveness and answered, "I've got an outline."

"Is your outline more detailed than get in, arrest Gio, get out, and don't die or get arrested?"

Tony turned to Gibbs with a blindingly bright grin and said, "I'm sure somewhere in there there's a step where we get you more coffee, but other than that, sounds like a pretty complete outline to me, Boss."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, subtly checking his gun as they stepped up to the curb where Jack slid off his car and the gunman dropped his cigarette to smash it into the pavement. "Took you long enough, Tony-boy. Thought this merc was going to give me lung cancer as punishment for making him wait."

"You know how it is Jackie, we Feds have more important places to be and get ourselves held up." The gunman just snorted and led the three men into the building and past security with no problems. When they were in the elevator on their way up to the penthouse, Tony caught Gibbs' attention and gave the emergency stop button a pointed look. That got just a touch of a smirk out of Gibbs, which was the best Tony could hope for under the circumstances.

Stepping out into the penthouse **foyer** brought them face to face with a very dapper looking Alexander Macaluso. Gibbs shot him a wolfish leer before saying, "You look well rested, Alex." Tony bit back a grin while Alex bit back a grimace and something wrathful flickered through Alexander's eyes.

"Yes Jethro, you must thank your ME for me for such an exquisitely calming cup of tea."

"I'll be sure to let Ducky know how ... _grateful_ you are."

Had Alexander not been sure that he would get shot for it, he would've started yelling. But instead he called on his years of practice and merely smiled, he was willing to lose battles to Gibbs to win the war in the end. "It has been a pleasure to see you again Jethro, and I thank you for escorting Anthony safely home. Now, if you'll excuse him, my father is waiting to hear Anthony's report about my dear baby sister."

"Given that Special. Agent . DiNozzo. is _my_ second in command we thought your father would appreciate hearing his update from me."

"You thought wrong." Giovanni made his answer violently blunt, making it clear that no amount of threatening or cajoling would get Jethro past those doors and in to see Giovanni. "My father wants to hear his report from _family_, not a law enforcement gofer."

Gibbs had no weight to push. He had a tenuously given warrant in his pocket, but that wouldn't stand up to any real argument that Macaluso's lawyers would make. Before Gibbs could form a cohesive plan beyond just shoving his way through, Tony replied, "Of course."

If looks could kill, Tony would've dropped like a stone to that expensive marble floor.

"However, Father would appreciate it if you'd leave you gun out here, Anthony. The last time a Federal Agent was allowed armed in his home mistakes were made."

Tony cocked an eyebrow at the choice of phrasing and reprimanded in all his mob-boss-in-training glory, "Alexander, give me enough credit to remember how you shot me the last time I came home." Tony deftly withdrew his gun and handed it over to Jack. "It's an experience I'm sure neither of us wish to repeat. Me, because I hate nearly dying, and you, because I'm sure Giovanni did his best to make you wish that you'd never been born once he realized that you'd done it on purpose." Tony snorted, "In fact, I'd stake my life savings that you spent at least the next six months being called Brutus."

A flicker of disgust and pain went across Alexander's face, but Tony ignored that to look at Gibbs. With all the unhealthy clarity that their connection possessed, Tony said without speaking a word, 'You know it's gotta happen, Boss. We don't have enough to hold him, and I think we'd kill each other if we spent the rest of our lives on that Mexican beach of yours.'

Gibbs snorted at the, as always, deftly made joke, and knew full well that this had been Tony's backup plan ever since Williams made himself even more useless by not giving them the evidence they needed. They had nothing on Gio, and Tony was enough of a martyr to think this was a good plan. And Gibbs had nothing to counter him with.

Tony's hand twitched for just an instant and Gibbs knew – he was reaching for his badge. Gibbs' worst nightmare come to life, Anthony turning over his badge before he died, and not wasting the energy to bother whispering Gibbs declared, "Don't. You. _Dare_."

Tony's answering grin was small, and quietly grateful, but he kept his badge where Gibbs wanted it. There was a world of conversation in the brief glance they shared after that, Gibbs demanding that no matter what in the hell Tony was planning, he walk back out that room alive, and Tony begging that if he didn't, Gibbs didn't hate him enough to keep him out of Stillwater.

The glance was barely a moment, but it was enough of a goodbye for Tony, and a 'I refuse to give you permission' for Gibbs, and Tony walked into the Macaluso inner sanctum unprotected.


	30. Chapter 29

**A/N: **Apologies for making you wait the regular amount of time for this one, and I warn you here and now, there's a cliffie at the end of this chapter too. (Please, if you're going to throw food, make it tomatoes, they're my fav). But the next chapter should be up tomorrow or the day after, depending on my mood, so not nearly as long a wait as usual.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Ya'll are the reason this stays fun!

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The moment Tony stepped through the doors he shrugged on the persona of the man he'd been trained to be. The charm he learned from his mother, the slickness he learned from his father, and the iron fist he learned from Giovanni. Some part of Tony lamented that even after all this time, after all the striving he did to figure out and become who he wanted to be and not who he'd been told, he could still so easily become this man. It always felt just a little unnatural sliding into that skin, but it was still so wretchedly easy that Tony was sickened.

Alexander led Tony through the expansive apartment, though he didn't need to function as guide, Tony would always know the way. Over the marble floors of the entryway, hang a left down the long hall lined with paintings, (more than a few of them bought from brokers who specialized in stolen works), getting distracted by the pattern of dark and light wood on the floor, and finally reaching the great oak door that separated Giovanni's office from the rest of the house and feeling like a door that size should have a Gatekeeper like they did to Oz.

The first time Tony had been led through he'd been blown away by the beauty of all Giovanni's expensive things, but now, all he could think about was Gibbs' house. Gibbs' floors were wood, not the sort with the high priced sheen that required a maid to clean every floor, every day just to avoid footprints because the family couldn't be bothered to take off their shoes when they came home. No, Gibbs' wood was unassuming and sturdy, just like his furniture, all of it built to last by the hands of the man who lived there. Even Gibbs' paintings weren't really paintings, they were photos.

One night Tony had been fussing over some black and white landscape photo that Gibbs said he'd pulled out of storage, and when Gibbs couldn't take Tony's diatribe about spacing and focus anymore he snapped out about how it was one of Shannon's favorites. When Tony could breathe properly again after the shock of hearing her name, Gibbs kept going, a little more contrite that he'd brought the subject up with a yell. He told Tony about Shannon's love of photography, He laughed to himself about all those years she'd spent as a painter (many paintings of which were still safely locked away, not out and out and cutting him open with the pain of missing her), but it was photography that she wanted to be brilliant at.

That summed up the difference between the houses and the men, Tony supposed. Giovanni gathered around him things that were shiny and meant to impress, while Gibbs gathered that which had meaning. Tony almost stopped mid-stride when the shock of the realization bore down on him.

Gibbs only kept what he wanted to.

Tony _knew_ that, but the rush of reaffirmation was enough to make his heart ache. He wasn't alone, Gibbs was fighting for him. He believed that Tony was supposed to be the man he'd been trying to be all the years: The Federal Agent, and not the man he'd been raised to be: The Mob Boss.

One of Giovanni's body men arched open the door for them, and The Mob Boss demanded that Tony stick his chin out and keep his eyes off the invisible help. But, The Federal Agent was too kind for that, so Tony patted the bodyguard on the shoulder and said, "Thanks Marco. And hey, how are your girls?"

Marco's eyes widened, blown away that he was being treated as a human being and not as a piece of furniture. But then, for the most part, Tony had always been like that. Marco looked around nervously, catching the furious glare of Alexander, the expectant grin of Tony, and the bemused smirk of Giovanni, and that smirk was actually was terrified him into stumbling out, "They're all doing great, Sir," and dashing down the hall. Giovanni smirked like a wolf did with a lamb, when the helpless thing was already caught, it just didn't know it yet.

Tony knew that smirk as well, but he wasn't nearly as petrified by it as Marco. In fact, the short temper that came with that smirk was exactly what Tony was looking for.

XXXXXXX

Out in the foyer, Gibbs was pacing. He kept glaring at the door, as if through the pressure of his stare he'd be able to wrench Tony from the apartment and back into safe hands. Thus far Jack had listened to Gibbs offer monosyllabic answers to four different phone calls, and watched him dodge one caller with several disgruntled sighs.

From what Jack knew of Gibbs (which was quite a bit considering Gio had sent him on recon duty over Tony every time he was especially worried), that avoided call had to be from his Director, demanding an update. If things had gone to plan Gibbs should've already had Gio in custody and been on his way back to the navy yard, which they both knew wasn't going to happen, but she wanted to hear it anyway.

Jack had watched Tony deal with Gibbs in situations like this many times over the years – and yes, he counted through a telephoto lens and over a bug as 'watching'. So Jack slouched against his chair in a Tony-patented posture and assumed the loving, but slightly disrespectful tone that Tony pulled out to draw Gibbs back from the edge. "If you wear a hole in that floor, they _will_ charge you for it."

"It's Moroccan marble, Jack. Shouldn't be able to break unless I pried it off the floor and dropped it out the damn window."

"Still, Gibbs. The sentiment stands. You'll need your energy for bigger things."

"Pacing doesn't take up that much energy, Jack."

"Maybe not Gibbs, but you and your stoic self having a breakdown is freaking me out, so sit down."

Under normal circumstances Gibbs would glare at Tony, roll his eyes, and **not**sit down, but he'd at least stop pacing. All that energy he'd be sending spiraling in a million different directions upon being forced to sit and wait would be channeled into keeping his feet still, which in a moment like this would be enough. But instead, Gibbs cocked his head and looked at Jack like he was truly seeing him for the first time. When he spoke, Gibbs didn't bite his answer out in a fury, he just sounded heartbreakingly weary. "Don't do that."

Jack raised his eyebrows in question, but Gibbs didn't respond, forcing Jack to use his words and not get comfortable enough to communicate like they truly understood one another. "Don't do what?"

"Don't be Tony. Don't try and be him to calm me down."

"I'm sorry Gibbs."

"Don't apologize. It's a-"

"Sign of weakness. Yeah, I know. But I'm still sorry. I just want to help."

"I know you do. You've been a good friend to Tony, and I can't fault you for wanting to be useful, but, just, not like that."

Jack went back to his natural sitting position, but kept staring at Gibbs with surprisingly open eyes for a fellow who'd spent most of his adult life undercover. "It's not 'cause of what he says, or does, is it? It's not because he balances you out. It started that way, as finally having someone who would tell you that you crossed the line from bastard into jackass, but now it's not that."

"Nope. It's just Tony. Not his style, just him." In the midst of the continued pacing and the less than fluent answer, Jack finally got that where Gibbs' presence had calmed Tony's reckless streak, made him more dependable, more stable; to Gibbs, Tony's presence calmed him down, and made him human. Not Tony's words, just his existence.

Whatever Tony was up to in the office with Gio, Jack spared a thought for a desperate prayer that Tony would walk out of this in one functioning piece, because if he didn't, Gibbs was liable to destroy them all as the exchange.

XXXXXXX

As The Mob Boss, Tony would affect a disinterested sprawl when he sat, just so people would be thrown when he shifted gears into a vengeful demigod. But today, Tony sat with a slight lean back, and the open smile he used when interviewing witnesses who he needed to make feel comfortable.

Already Tony could see the vein in Gio's forehead throbbing. He hated it when Tony 'played Federal Agent' with him rather than being the tempestuous fellow he wanted to take over his family business.

Tony had made his official report to Gio in just the same way he would to any other family member in his situation, though he had fudged the details about Maeve's location since Gio probably knew where most of the NCIS safehouses were. "So, unless you have any more questions, I'll be getting back to the office."

Tony gave Gio his standard three second pause while holding eye contact – typically just the right amount of time for family to ask their questions – and moved to stand up, but Alexander placed a bracing hand on his shoulder and pushed Tony back to his seat. "Why are you here, Anthony?"

Tony grinned, "I'm here because we found your daughter's boyfriend, Gio. And Gibbs thought we ought to tell you in person."

"_Gibbs_ thought?" Gio placed a hand over his heart, feigning pain. "You didn't think you ought to tell me, Tonio?"

"I thought Mae left your house years ago and she wouldn't give a rats ass whether you knew or not."

Gio's expression hardened, "Language, Anthony. This is not your pathetic little office, this is. my. home."

If Tony hadn't been nearly as good as he was at undercover he would've heaved a mental sigh of relief that he was getting a rise out of Gio, but since he was even better than the stories claimed, he spat back, "And what a lovely home it is, Old Man. Here you raised a serial killer and four spineless, visionless, attention whores."

Tony felt the flutter of Alexander behind him, knowing it was only Gio's bracing glare that kept him from hitting Tony upside the head with something far more solid that Gibbs' hand. "You of all people should know better than to criticize someone for a love of attention, Anthony. Some of the antics you got up to to garner attention from your father made even Michael blush."

"I admit, I was a less than stellar child, but I didn't grow up to be a _serial killer_."

Giovanni started to legitimately lose his temper now. Tony usually adopted his Mob Boss personality within moments of Gio applying pressure, but today he was holding strong as The Federal Agent and it was irritating to say the least. "Michael did what he had to do for the good of the family!"

Tony snorted, "He did whatever you told him to, you mean!" Tony paused for just a split second to invite Gio to steamroll over him, but when he didn't, Tony kept pushing. "You didn't raise sons Gio, you raised lap dogs who can't think for themselves, they can only do your bidding!"

"Loyalty to the family is not a sin, Anthony!"

"But _murder_ is!" Tony rose to his feet in outrage, leaning over the desk and applying just a hint more pressure to Gio.

"Not when the family demands it!"

"You mean when _you_ demand it!"

"I **AM **the family!"

"You don't understand the meaning of the word, Gio! You're just a bully who thinks he's a man!"

Gio was around his desk like a shot, his age concealing a surprisingly quick form. He slapped Tony across the jaw, reprimanding, "This is how you speak to me in my own house, Anthony?"

Tony couldn't help the slight hardening of his eyes when he looked back at Gio, born out of years of being liberally smacked around by his father. Gio caught the look, and in a moment his demeanor shifted from wronged owner to heartbroken father. "This is what you truly think of me, my Tonio? Of I, who brought you into my home, protected you from your father, treated you like a son? This cretin is who you see me as?"

Had it been only a few years ago, Tony would've been swayed into forgiveness. Tony was a second, and third, and fourth chances sort of man, knowing for a sure fact that people could change if they wanted to, and if someone would just give them the chance. But despite the dying hope that Gio would turn into the man he could've been, he still knew the difference between loyalty and being used, and Tony had learned the difference well.

Tony sighed and laid his hands gently on Gio's shoulders, and he gave Gio a small but encouraging smile before he replied, "I think you're the sort of man who would have her daughter's boyfriend kidnapped in a sick spurt of jealousy to try and make her come home. I think you wanted her so scared of the big bad world that she'd come running back to your house and all your protections herself, and when Eli couldn't take it anymore, he'd leave. And if he didn't, Mae would leave with him again and then you'd have Eli killed. Either way, you'd have your lovely little Ophelia all to yourself."

Blinding white rage flicked through Giovanni's eyes, and some part of Tony's brain registered a gasp of surprise from Alex, who obviously hadn't been let in on the plan.

Though Tony took in both those details, he was more focused on the searing pain of a knife lancing his side.

Gio wrapped one palm gently over Tony's cheek and whispered, "My boy, my Tonio. You see things like no one else sees. That's why you would've been king. But now, this is a betrayal I cannot endure, my little Antony." Gio grasped the handle on his knife and twisted once before pulling it free.

Tony only had the time to whisper a seemingly incoherent, "Boss," before the world went black.


	31. Chapter 30

**A/N:** Short and to the point, but I didn't want to leave you hanging on that cliff over the weekend! Thanks for reading!

* * *

1) Pressure on the Director for a new mass spectrometer, 2) coming with them for five team movies nights (to be chosen at Abby's discretion), 3) her attendance at three cowboy steak dinners (which Gibbs didn't know how she knew about, because Tony wouldn't have mentioned it), and 4) the next time Gibbs had a fight with Sheppard, Abby got to watch.

Gibbs had rolled his eyes at Abby's demands before she turned over the piece of proprietary technology that she had gotten from her friend at the CIA on the assumption that Gibbs would need it, but right now, Gibbs would've agreed to more.

Abby had tugged Gibbs into her lab the morning after their team dinner. She'd been fidgety and nervous, rambling about how 'even if Gibbs didn't want it there were still plenty of times they'd be able to use it.' Eventually he got her calmed down enough to pull out a miniscule microphone bug, which she explained was meant to be attached to someone's watch, tie clip, glasses, or something else metal. She'd rambled about the tech and the near perfect sound quality of the bug, the range, and all manner of details he didn't care about at all.

Eventually he'd held up a hand to force her to pause and asked, "So we can stick this on Tony's watch and hear everything that's going on in the room he's in?"

"Yup! And guess what the best part is Bossman!" When Gibbs didn't even quirk an eyebrow she bit her lip and said, "Oh, not in a guessing place today? Alright then. It's virtually undetectable! Even if someone swept Tony for bugs, they wouldn't find anything!"

She'd wrangled plenty of promises out of Gibbs in exchange, and when he asked why she'd thought they'd need it, Abby just shrugged. "Someone's threatening people he cares about, I assumed Tony was about to do something stupid."

"Why?"

Abby grinned at Gibbs like that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "'Cause you both get stupid and self sacrificing when you think one of us is in danger. And I know, Mae isn't one of us, but the same principle applies." Gibbs kissed her on the forehead, snatched the bug, and planted it deftly on Tony the first chance he had.

Now, as Gibbs bashed open the door to the Macaluso's apartment and blitzed down the hall to Tony, he was grateful for Abby's assumption. That little bug routed to a computer in Abby's office where it was being recorded, and that not only meant that they now had a confession from Giovanni Macaluso for conspiracy to murder and kidnapping, but Gibbs judging by Tony's strangled gasp they had him for attempted murder of a Federal Agent as well.

The one guard they came across stepped neatly out of Gibbs' way, knowing full well who Gibbs was, and choosing to be on Tony's side in this little drama. Jack kicked open the door and trained his gun on Alexander, leaving Gibbs to blow past him and cold cock Gio to the temple. Gibbs snapped the cuffs on an unconscious Gio since wasn't in the mood to split his focus between his wounded agent and a potential threat.

Jack made the 911 call while Gibbs was busy jostling Tony, bringing him back to consciousness so Gibbs could find out if he was injured anyplace else as he braced his hands against Tony's abdomen.

Tony came to with a groan, and after looking around the room to remember how he got lying in a puddle of blood on Gio's office floor he muttered. "We gotta stop meeting like this, Boss."

"You gotta stop getting yourself injured, DiNozzo!"

"Hey, I wore kevlar this time!"

"And not a damn bit of good it did you!"

"It's not my fault he pulled a knife instead of a gun and aimed for my stomach, Gibbs!"

Gibbs snorted and pushed all the harder against the hole in Tony's side. Tony didn't have to be a genius to sense the tenuous grip Gibbs had on his temper at the moment, wanting nothing more than to mete out justice himself against Macaluso rather than spending the next five years burning through trials and appeals for a man so obviously guilty. (Every time Gibbs went through one of his tempers Abby brought back the theory that Gibbs wasn't really dark magic, he was an avenging angel. If possible, this theory made Gibbs even more uncomfortable than Abby's usual one.)

Tony found the strength to raise one of his own hands and lay in gently across the ones Gibbs had pressing against his side. "Got the confession, Boss."

"You did good, Tony. But no confession is worth you getting stabbed."

"I dunno, Gibbs. This was a pretty good confession. Probably worth it."

Gibbs gave him a glare that meant if his hands weren't currently applying pressure they would be smacking him upside the head. That that was Gibbs' only response and a sure sign he was done talking about this.

But Tony wasn't. And he decided that today he earned the right to be just as stubborn as Gibbs.

"Ya know, Gibbs, I probably ought to tell your everything about the conversation before I, ya know, black out, just in case the lawyers try and spring Gio before I get out surgery."

"Already have the whole thing recorded." Tony's jaw dropped in question and Gibbs smirked, "Abby got me a bug that we stuck in your watch."

"That small? And could you hear..." Gibbs glared at Tony to stop the techno ramble when he wasn't capable of shutting him up more forcefully.

"Still, Boss. It was an almost perfect confession, and whatever room leftover for interpretation there might have been, was totally made clear by the stabbing. Guilty people don't stab other people." Gibbs kept his mouth shut and his stare fixed on the knife wound, processing in his mind just how bad this one was.

Tony knew that look, it meant that Gibbs was pulling a Beautiful Mind, though instead of cracking codes, Gibbs was figuring out why Tony wouldn't let this go, while figuring out just how long Tony would be stuck in the hospital, and then his apartment (and they both knew by apartment Gibbs meant the guest bedroom at his house), and how big the pile of cold cases and History Channel specials on DVD was going to have to be to keep Tony stationary.

Suddenly understanding flicked across Gibbs' face and he said, "DiNozzo, I thought I already made it pretty clear that I don't want you to die. Are you looking for me to say it again?"

"Nah, Boss. I would just like you to acknowledge that I was totally badass and got the bad guy."

"Yeah Tony, ya did."

"Well don't sprain yourself with that copious enthusiasm there, Boss."

"Are you looking for a song and dance, cause I'm a little preoccupied right now."

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, and if he wasn't prone on the floor and bleeding he would've skulked off to mope in peace. "There's nothing wrong with telling me I did a good job by stopping a psychopath, Gibbs. Not that it was that difficult to back him into a corner, but still, praise is always nice."

Tony heard more than saw Alexander get smashed into the wall by Jack. 'About time!' Tony thought to himself. The mixture of pain and blood loss had him rapidly careening towards unconsciousness and he wanted to finish this before he slipped into pain free oblivion. No matter what else Alexander was, he loved his father, and listening to the man who had been that father's favorite, up until twenty minutes ago, rant about what an awful man he was, was too much for Alexander to bear when he was already tired and vulnerable.

"You miserable little shit!" He shouted from around the wall Jack was providing.

"Language, Alex! You know how Gio feels about cursing in his house!"

"You know nothing about my Father!"

Somehow Tony found the strength to laugh, "You don't know a damn thing either!"

"I know him a thousand times better than you ever could!" Alex was struggling against Jack, trying every angle to get around him and get to Tony.

"You didn't know that the Old Man was screwing over Mae! I bet you didn't even know that he had Mike killing people!"

"Of course I knew, you miserable little wretch! I'm his right hand!" Jack slammed Alex against the wall, then applied just the right amount of pressure to cut off his air supply and render him unconscious.

Tony sighed and released his tension and let his head drop down to the floor. "Got the last confession. Can I go to sleep now, Gibbs?"

Gibbs couldn't help his chuckle, "Yeah Tony-Boy, sleep now."


	32. Chapter 31

Tony came to several hours later, safely tucked into a hospital bed with Ducky by his side. He tugged off his nasal cannula and just watched Ducky be wholly absorbed by his book for a minute. Tony not feeling like warmed over death was a good sign of recovery, not wearing a breathing mask was an ever better one, but nothing was as good a sign as Ducky being so _not_ worried that he could read a book beside Tony's hospital bed.

"So I take it I'm not dying, Ducky?"

The elderly ME didn't jump at the noise, further proof that Ducky definitely had a much more dubious background then he liked to talk about. "Certainly not, young man. In a stroke of rather good luck for Giovanni the blow managed to miss any of your internal organs. You should be up on your feet in no time, if perhaps, moving a little slower than your usual pace."

Tony mulled on that for a moment, first grateful that he wasn't about to spend the next two months in recovery, then he descended into embarassment. "Ducky, did I _faint_ back there? From a wound that didn't actually do anything?"

After years of dealing with federal agents and their egos, Ducky supposed it was a question he ought to have expected, but instead he just sighed and fought the urge to smack Anthony upside the head. "You fainted from a combination of pain, blood loss, and shock, Tony. That's nothing to be ashamed about."

"I've been _shot_ before and not fainted, Ducky. I'm pretty sure that this warrants a little humiliation."

"I don't recall you ever being shot by a father figure."

Tony grinned and said, "If you think it's a shock you obviously don't know any of my father figures very well, Ducky."

Ducky very deliberately laid down his book and scooted his chair closer to Tony's bed. "Not too long ago you trusted this man, Tony. To have that trust repaid by a potentially fatal blow would be difficult for anyone to bear."

The ME knew how Tony felt about the compassionate gaze that Ducky fixed on him in moments like this. It was unwanted and unneeded, but damn if it still didn't give Tony the warm fuzzies. "I haven't trusted Gio for years, Ducky."

"When you reach my age, Anthony, you will realize that years isn't nearly as significant a measurement of time as you think it is."

Tony sighed out, "Ducky..."

The ME held up a hand to stall further protests and said, "I will let it lie for the time being Anthony, but you will discuss this with someone before I clear you for field work." Tony moved to protest, but Ducky fixed him with a glare he must've picked up from Gibbs and said, "You _will_ Anthony. Debate with me all you like, but my answer will be the same."

Tony slouched further against his pillows, feeling for all the world like a petulant five year old. He fidgeted peevishly for a moment as his protest to Ducky's demands, but soon he settled in and moved his bed as close to sitting as he could get and started to ask about the case. "So, where does Gibbs have everybody?"

"Timothy and Jethro are all on their way here now, but Abigail is processing evidence, and Ziva is still handling guard duty until a more permanent rotation can be established."

"They're on their way already? Damn Ducky, how long have I been out?"

"No more than a few hours. Jethro just happens to be rather ... persuasive, when properly motivated."

"Persuasive? Is that what they're calling it these now?"

XXXXXXX

Giovanni had never actually been in a holding cell before. The first time he got himself in trouble at the ripe old age of sixteen he was still the only child of a dangerous man and that got him the respect of waiting in someone's office, not a cell. He'd actually only been in interrogation room once or twice in his life, and only when deal with crusaders who were foolish enough to think they could stop him.

But Jethro Gibbs was the worst kind of crusader, he was one who was actually strong enough to win.

Giovanni paced the length of his holding cell quite a few times before Gibbs deigned to turn up. Gio lounged back on his cot, pretending he was behind the great oak desk that consumed most of his office and made him seem terrifyingly larger than life when doing his business. Even without the desk, pretending it was there made his confidence in his invincibility just the same. "You'll be getting served by my attorneys in the next few hours for excessive use of force."

Gibbs replied with cool disdain, "Considering you'll be getting charged with attempted murder, I think it's a fair trade."

"Attempted murder? Agent Gibbs, your boy attacked me and I merely defended myself."

It was harder than Gibbs would admit to squash the territorial pride that reared its ugly head when Macaluso had called Tony 'his', finally giving up his claim on Tony in favor of Gibbs. "If Tony had attacked you, you'd be dead. And the forensics agrees." Or, they would when Abby got done running every last spec of everything in that room.

"Of course, you'll make sure all the samples you gather will be available for testing by an independent lab."

Gibbs snorted, "If a judge orders it. Otherwise every other criminal gets our forensic specialist, so there's no reason you should be any different."

"You're particularly fond of your forensics girl, Gibbs, I would assume you'd _want_ the testing to be done by someone a little less... vulnerable."

He was looking for a flare of temper from Gibbs, but got nothing. "I doubt your lawyers would encourage you to add more attempted murder charges to the list, but I'd be more than willing to lock you up for them."

"You won't lock me up, Gibbs."

Jethro just smiled and stepped up the bars, leaning against them as he flicked two fingers in a 'come here' gesture at Gio. Macalsuo just snorted and leaned further back against the wall behind him, but Gibbs didn't react to the show of disrespect. "Peacefully going to jail is the option you're gonna want to take. But feel free to fight it as much as you want, that's every criminal's right. But know, the moment you come after me or mine, I'll end you, that's my right."

Macaluso was to his feet in a heartbeat as he hissed, "Did you just threaten me, Agent Gibbs?"

"No, Gio, that's an oath. Any of them comes to harm, and it's on your head."

"I could have you up on corruption charges, Gibbs! Your threats to me are proof that you're only trying to set me up!"

"And I could have you on the other end of my sniper scope. We both know that neither one is a good idea." Gibbs shrugged and leaned back from the bars, "But either way, it's your choice.

XXXXXXX

Judging by Ducky's blush and blatant refusal to answer any of Tony's implied questions, Gibbs had done something rebellious that Ducky felt a little dirty about agreeing with. Tony just smiled and let the ME get away with silence, and that's the moment Gibbs and McGee chose to roam into his hospital room.

"You're awake." Gibbs commented calmly, with a look to Ducky meaning he was supposed to get a phone call when that happened. Ducky just rolled his eyes and ignored the glare from Gibbs, knowing that Tony waking up a mere few minutes ago wouldn't earn him any leniency.

"Wide awake and ready to get the hell out of here, Gibbs."

Ducky patted his shoulder, "Soon, Anthony, soon."

Before GIbbs had the chance to ask anymore questions his cell went off. He stepped into a corner of the room to answer while a nervous McGee stepped up and asked, "How are you, Tony?"

"Well, I got stabbed, Probie."

McGee just rolled his eyes, "I meant, ya know, how are you _feeling_, Tony."

"Ah, _feeling_. The lesser known but equally dirty of the F words."

"_Tony_." Sweet McGee sounded so flustered that Tony couldn't help but laugh.

"What are you worried about me 'feeling', Probster?" Tony shot McGee rather exaggerated air quotes as part of his question.

"You said that you still liked Macalsuo. And then, well..."

"He stabbed me."

McGee blushed that he couldn't actually verbalize the question." Yeah, that."

"He's a charming guy, McGee, and so long as you completely ignore the homicidal tendencies he's likable. But you can like someone without trusting them. Sort of the way you feel about your editor." Tony gave a teasing smile, but Tim still looked confused. Tony sometimes wished there was some translating guide so he could explain things in Innocent to Tim just as well as he explained Americanisms to Ziva.

"I'm not him anymore, Tim. I'm not the guy that liked Gio, I grew out of him."

McGee smiled like it finally made some fraction of sense to him and said, "You've become who you were born to be."

Tony sputtered and laughed, "Did you just- 'cause, I mean, there's no way. There's no earthly way that after five years of work, the first movie quote I get you to make is from The Lord of the Rings!"

"What? It's a good movie!" Tony being willing to go on a movie diatribe while still mocking Tim was more proof than any doctor could've given them that Tony was feeling just fine. (And considering he could string coherent thoughts together, McGee knew that Tony's fine wasn't the result of medication.)

"It's like, 11 hours McGee! That's not a movie, that's a mini-series!"

"So what? Are you telling me you're mini-series-ist now?"

"Mini. Series. Ist. Seriously McWriter?"

Gibbs tapped Tony on the back of his head, a shadow of the usual slap, and tilted his cell away from his mouth just long enough to say, "They're good movies, Tony. Leave him alone."

Tony's jaw dropped at the pronouncement from Gibbs, but before Tony had the change to properly freak out, Gibbs stepped from the room and back to his call.

"I'm afraid I must agree with Jethro on this front."

"Ducky!" Tony sputtered in betrayal.

"You just don't like them because you don't know what's going on." Tim scolded.

Tony tried to maintain his affronted demeanor, but he couldn't do it. He broke with a laugh, and then went into a discussion of the merits and drawbacks of Viggo Mortensen movies with Tim while they waited for Gibbs to return.


	33. Chapter 32

**A/N:** Hope you're all having a good end to your week! Life has gotten completely crazy around here so I warn you now, Monday's post might not be up on Monday. I'll do what I can, but if I fail, forgive me. Thanks for reading!

* * *

While Tim and Tony were locked in the eternal debate of book v. movie (despite Tony's ardent protests that he'd never read the books), Gibbs was fielding a phone call from Jenn. "You've got a mob boss just sitting in lockup, Jethro!"

"He's been charged, Director." Gibbs replied calmly. "We can keep him in lockup until a judge orders us otherwise. Which won't happen."

Gibbs could hear her put-upon sigh all the way from the other end of the phone line. "I'm well aware of that, Special Agent Gibbs. I'm also aware that I've got Macaluso's attorneys trailing me all over the office demanding to know why he hasn't been questioned yet."

"Why? So they can sit in interrogation and get paid $500 an hour to tell Gio not to answer?"

"I'm sure they've got some highly plausible explanation for why he acted the way he did."

"That excuse have anything to do with why Alex doesn't have any lawyers running around?"

Whatever pacing Jenn had been doing around her office while figuring out how to deal with a stubborn Gibbs suddenly stopped, and Jethro could hear her wheels turning. "You think he's going to try to pin this all on his own son?"

"I think with Gio anything is a possibility."

"Are Abby's forensics going to refute Alex's involvement?"

"Abbs will find the truth. Refuting is what the lawyers are for."

"Jethro, we need to know what argument they plan to make." He didn't answer, but Jenn could almost see him taking a long draw on his coffee in reply, so she pressed on. "For them to give us Gio's alibi, you have to actually come in and interview him."

"Nope."

"_Nope_?"

"Did I make myself unclear, Director?"

"No, actually, I just don't think I've ever heard you use 'nope' before."

Gibbs gave her a strange blend of a chuckle and sigh, then asked, "Are we finished, Jenn?"

She got her bearings back quickly and said, "No, Jethro. You still haven't told me why you won't let Gio be interviewed."

"Because Tony's laid up, and I don't trust anyone else."

"That still doesn't explain why you won't do it." Gibbs gave Jenn the briefest of mental pats for stifling so well the sound of her jealousy at not being of the list of trusted people. If he hadn't been him, and didn't know her like h did, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Because we don't _need_ it, Jenn. Gio can't wriggle his way out of the tape, or out of the stabbing. He's going away, no matter what he says."

"Gibbs! He may plead self-defense and get the tape excluded, or say Alex put him up to it, or-"

"Jenn!"

"No, Gibbs! There are too many variables for Gio to try. You need to-"

"Jennifer!" The dead silence of shock hung for a moment before, "…Jethro?"

"He's going away, Jenn."

"I know, Jethro. You told me. But-"

"**No,** Jenn. _He's going away_." She caught his unspoken, 'And if I get into a room with him right now, I'll send him away myself.'

He didn't wait for a response, knowing the silence was answer enough, and hung up.

XXXXXXX

Gibbs stepped back into Tony's hospital room and interrupted McGee in the middle of an impassioned, arm-flailing soliloquy. Tim blushed fiercely and stopped, but despite laughing at his Probie's discomfort, Tony didn't start teasing. That made Gibbs lift an eyebrow, but he let the supposedly embarrassing conversation slide.

Tony sat up a little straighter and asked, "What's the plan, Boss?"

The eyebrow went up a little higher and Tony rambled on. "'Cause I know you've got Gio in custody, but there's still interviews and lawyers, and you hate both of those. And then the PR department is going to try and make you play nice with the reporters, who you hate even more, which means that I'll need to do it, and why haven't you stopped me yet?" Tony stopped himself, looking completely baffled that he hadn't been slapped.

"Ducky told me I wasn't allowed to hit you anymore when you're in a hospital bed." Gibbs shrugged.

"Though I'm beginning to think better of it." Ducky piped up from his corner of the room. Tony pretended to be affronted, but grinned when he saw the slightest twitch upward at the corner of Gibbs' mouth.

"Still, Boss. What's the plan?"

"You sit here until the doctors tell you to go home and then you recover, DiNozzo."

Tony waited for Gibbs to continue, but Gibbs held on to the rest of his silence. Tony gave Gibbs an expectant grin and said, "Seriously, Boss. What's the plan?"

"Tony, you asking the question again isn't going to change my answer."

"I'm not trying to change the answer Boss, I'm just trying to get a more complete version."

"That _is_ the complete answer. You sit here until you don't have a hole in your side anymore, then maybe you can think about watching yourself on the news."

The intrinsically helpful part of McGee wanted to explain to Gibbs just exactly what Tony was asking, but the cleverer part of Tim knew that Gibbs and Tony weren't having a breakdown in communication, they were just trying to out-stubborn one another. The two men exchanged glares for a moment before Ducky gave a pointed cough at Gibbs, signaling since he was the one who wasn't confined to a hospital, perhaps he should stow his pride and answer the question.

Gibbs just sighed, "Ziva is coordinating with the FBI to have a protection detail for Mae and Eli until further notice. Fornell is actually trying to persuade Mae to think about witness protection, but Eli is too fond of the Navy for either of them to pay him much attention."

Tony muttered something about 'smart girl' for not listening to Fornell, but Gibbs ignored that and moved on. "Abby is going over everything twice, and making backups of all her samples and results, just in case. McGee has a search running to find any more communications between Gio and Williams. And Jenn is dealing with Gio's lawyers."

"Just Gio's?"

"Yup. Pretty sure that he's going to try and pin all this on Alex."

McGee sputtered out, "But he shot Tony! On _tape_!"

"He'll try and get the tape excluded first, Boss." Tony said, ignoring McGee's affronted expression in Gio's flouting of logic. "Probably try and find a way to call it an illegal search, or privileged communication."

"I'm sure Legal has thought of that, Tony."

"Boss, you and I both know that the NCIS lawyers are too honorable to think about playing dirty."

"It's not about ethics, DiNozzo. It's common sense. With the tape excluded it's your word against Gio's."

"That's why I gotta get out of here, Boss. I need to help Legal!"

"You get yourself a law degree in the last few hours, DiNozzo?"

"I don't need a law degree, Boss. I know how Gio thinks." Tony's explanations had gotten frantic as he fought his hospitalization.

"McGee." Tim jumped from his ever more worried vigil beside Tony's bed. "Go get the car. We need to back to the office."

McGee took his dismissal and ran, barely stopping to tell Tony 'feel better' before dashing out.

"Boss-" Tony tried, but Gibbs spoke over him. "Duck is gonna stay here and make sure you follow orders.

Tony tried to protest wasting Ducky's time, but the ME interrupted, "It's not a problem my dear boy. I haven't a body in the morgue, and Jimmy is perfectly capable of restocking the autopsy closet without my assistance."

Tony moved to object again, but Gibbs gently rested a hand on his ankle and said, "You need to heal up, DiNozzo. You'll worry about everything else after."

"But, Boss…"

"Anthony." It was so simple. He didn't over-enunciate to emphasize, he just said the name. Clean, clear, and precise, just like he did everything else. It wasn't scolding, or irritated, just a whole wealth of emotion and meaning conveyed in one simple proper noun said in a perfectly even tone.

Tony heaved out a sigh, but both men knew his heart wasn't really in it. Gibbs squeezed Tony's ankle one last time, then headed back to work.

XXXXXXX

Tim McGee wasn't a timid man. Sure, he didn't like making waves, and if he had the time to stop and think, he'd always start to doubt his decisions. But he wasn't really timid. Just… unsure. Especially around Gibbs, because Gibbs never seemed to doubt any of his choices, even the bad ones. So when Tim asked Gibbs, "So… you like LOTR?" Gibbs was probably surprised that he spoke up, but McGee wasn't.

"LOTR?"

"Lord of the Rings."

Gibbs revealed the tiniest twitch of a grin, then said, "I was a teenage boy once too, McGee."

"Really? Not like, _really_ really, 'cause I know you had to be a teenager once. You didn't just spring forth from Zeus' head fully formed, no matter what the guys in Cybercrimes think."

"Cybercrimes is actually ballsy enough to compare me to Athena?"

"You know who Athena is?"

Gibbs gave McGee a bit of a glare for that one, and before McGee could stumble out another mess of an explanation he said, "Despite what they told you at MIT, skipping college didn't make me stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid, Boss! A stupid person could _never_ do what you do!"

Gibbs slammed on the brakes to dodge another car, effectively stopping Tim mid panicked rant and before he could really get going. Tony's rambles made him look like a fool, but Tim's rambles made him look like an ass. "I know you don't, McGee."

"Well then why would you say that Gibbs!" The moment the words crossed his lips, Tim blushed and tried to stutter the declaration back in. Gibbs normally wouldn't have answered, just letting McGee work it out on his own, but the drive back to the Navy Yard was too short to give him the time he'd need to check, double-check, and submit his results for peer review to be sure he was getting it right. Tony only needed a significant look figure things out, Ziva needed to be trusted, and Tim needed to work through all the variables until the whole made logical sense.

"Because sometimes you sound like you think I am."

"Boss…" Tim sounded heartsick, "You know I'd never mean to actually sound like that. You're, I mean, you're _Gibbs_. The only people who think you're stupid are ones you end up putting in prison." Gibbs let the silence hang for a moment, then the oddness of this conversation soaked in to the point McGee asked, "Why?"

"Just realize you do it sometimes. That's all."

McGee didn't understand how Tony did it. Getting Gibbs to talk was like pulling teeth. At least Tony had years of visual cues to pick up on, because without them he would be trapped in a McGee-like state of confusion. Tim couldn't know from the silence that Gibbs wanted him to lay off for a while on the slightly condescending tone he sometimes pulled out that made Tony feel like he was no better than dumb muscle. In a week or two Tony would be back on an even keel and fight right back, but right now, every cut would leave him bleeding.

He'd pretend like he was fully healed, but Tony didn't handle betrayal well. It made his soul curl up and not want to risk trusting ever again, and the last thing he needed was motivation from his team to go into hiding.

"Gibbs…" McGee shuffled in his seat, trying not to look too nervous. In a moment of clarity borne from years of watching Abby make assumptions, Tim replied, "I'd do anything for Tony. I would've for years. And I know that sometimes I screw things up, but…"

Gibbs reached his hand out and tapped McGee under the chin in a gesture solely reserved for Tony on days he was under suspicion from the FBI. And suddenly, Tim understood how Gibbs made himself so clearly understood without using such a paltry thing as words.


	34. Chapter 33

**A/N:** Yes, I know, I didn't give you much warning, but you must've sensed the story was wrapping up. This portion of the saga is now complete. I'm thinking of a sequel involving the trial, but I need some time to focus on school rather than the high level of output required by this story. I feel wretched that this chapter got edited this morning in Intellectual Property (he he, I just got the irony of that.), and a sequel deserves more time than I can give right now.

My thanks to all you wonderful people who read and reviewed! You made my summer, and I'll always appreciate you.

**ETA: **This story wasn't so much about the plot as it was about Tony coming to a place where he could forgive himself for his past mistakes and accept the good man he's become. The story was meant to be about Tony's arc of absolution, and how the team, Gibbs in particular, gets him there. To those of you who feel the need to scold me for the 'incompleteness' of this story, as you call it, I apologize that at some point I misled you into thinking that Tony's progression was to serve the plot rather than the plot to serve the progression. That was never my true intent.

My apologies to the rest of the readership, both for being forced to lodge my complaint in a public forum since the reader didn't have the guts to log in, and for this reviewer's backhanded insult to all of you for being alright with how this ended, which was apparently very silly of all of you. ;) Sorry about both. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

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There were two days in the hospital, just to appease Ducky, then Tony made his way home to Gibbs' spare room. From there, there'd been another two days of 'So help me, DiNozzo, if you leave that couch I'll...' followed by threats of maiming, property damage, and termination (both occupational and physical).

Finally, after two days of whining by Tony and pleading by Abby, Gibbs relented to a team visit. Of course, the sort of visit that Gibbs had in mind (where everyone was in and out in under forty-five minutes) was completely different from the sort that actually happened. (Ziva brought dinner, Ducky brought drinks, Abby brought dessert, and McGee figured that since he already brought the TV and DVD player, he'd done his part).

On the whole the night was peaceful and nearly perfect, despite the fact that every time Gibbs started sneaking towards his basement stairs Abby would summon him back to the party. Eventually they all ended up sprawled around Gibbs' living room, each taking forkfuls of the remnants of Abby's cake, when the doorbell rang.

Abby dramatically looked around the room and said, "Who in the world could that be? We're all here." Tony tugged the door open with a laugh at Abby and found Jack standing there. Jack gave him a small grin and said, "Good to see you're feeling better."

"Hey, Jack. You're in the wrong town." He just chuckled at Tony and stepped forward into a strong hug, carefully avoiding his mostly healed side, just in case. Jack sauntered into Gibbs' living room, meeting a circle of handshakes and thanks from Tony's team. Abby bounded forward to dish out a hug, declaring how excited she was to finally meet Jack and demanding all sort of humiliating stories about Tony.

Jack settled in on Gibbs' couch, nestled in between Abby and Ziva (both with giddy grins for entirely different reasons). Jack snatched Abby's fork and leaned forward to take a forkful of cake for himself. Tony rolled his eyes and reached for another beer, knowing full well that Jack was about to tell about his disasterous first time undercover for Vice, but then the story died on Jack's tongue before his words found voice. Jack nearly leapt to his feet at his first sight of Gibbs, leaning against the far entrance to his living room, cradling his mug of bourbon and watching Jack.

Judging from the stiffness of his spine, Tony thought Jack was fighting the urge to salute under Gibbs' stare. Although, it wasn't the Angry Stare, or the Judging Stare, or even the Sizing Up Stare; Gibbs was just watching, but Jack didn't take it that way. Considering Jack had been witness to the full wrath of Gibbs in the last few days, Tony supposed he could forgive Jack for being twitchy, but it was still odd. Jack was Tony's friend, and Tony was Gibbs' family, why be nervous?

Jack fidgeted, straightening his jacket, and with the slightest nod said, "Gibbs."

Gibbs tilted his glass up in acknowledgment and said, "Jack." Tony would never quite be sure how without any movement at all, not even a facial twitch, Gibbs managed to ask, 'Whatcha doing here?'.

Words or no words, Jack heard the question and said, "I just wanted you to know that Mae is safe. None of the Macalusos will go after her." Gibbs cocked an eyebrow and Jack reiterated, "Both Mae and Eli will be safe." Leaving the 'and so will your team' unsaid.

Gibbs watched Jack fidget, nervous about Gibbs asking too many questions that Jack wasn't really allowed to answer. He took a sip from his mug and simply asked,"How?" letting Jack give as much or as little an answer as he could.

Jack stuck out his chin and replied, "I took care of it."

Gibbs gave the slightest twitch of a grin, translating to 'I'm willing to let you get away with not answering, but I'm gonna need more than that.'.

Jack looked to Tony, sharing one long stare before Tony muttered, "Oh, _shit._"

Jack flinched at the pain in Tony's eyes, then schooled his features and said, "Yeah." Tony tried to speak up again, probably to talk him out of his plan, but Jack held up a hand and interrupted. "It's done, Tonio, and it was the right thing to do."

Abby watching the visual sparring between the two men, and spoke up, "What are you-", but Jack put a hand on her shoulder to stop her and muttered, "I can't answer your questions."

Tony snorted, "You can tell us whatever the hell you want. You just can't tell _them_ that you told us."

Jack snapped his gaze back to Tony, giving him a withering glare for being such a jackass when all he'd done was try to protect Tony and his team. Jack gave just the tiniest flick of a look to the coffee table before him, and Tony knew what he had to do. Tony spat out, "You should go. Wouldn't want your keepers to think you're being friendly with the enemy."

"Tony!" Abby scolded, but Ziva placed a calming hand on her shoulder, persuading her to let them go.

Jack and Tony both stormed to the door, rage in Tony's eyes, and pain in Jack's. Tony flung open the door and stepped out of the way to let Jack out unhindered. Jack stopped in the doorway, bracing his hands against the frame and pleading with Tony to every aspect of his being. "Tonio..." he eeked out, but Tony placed a strong hand in the center of his chest and pushed him out the door, slamming it in his face.

Abby was on her feet in a heartbeat, but Ziva motioned for her to be quiet just a moment longer. Gibbs was the one who spoke, "That was a little harsh, DiNozzo."

Tony replied without actually looking at Gibbs, instead keeping his focus outside the glass of Gibbs' front door, watching Jack walk away. "After all he and I went through together, Boss, it wasn't nearly enough."

The moment Jack's car disappeared around the corner Tony paced back and forth through the entryway, deliberately stepping into a corner that was a blind spot to the outside windows and signed to Gibbs, "Blue sedan. Four o'clock. K7I 9H3. Four guys." Gibbs nodded and sent a text to Fornell and his team who were waiting around the corner keeping tabs on Tony. Gibbs responded, "What's enough, DiNozzo?"

Ziva subtly slid her hand in the cracks between the couch cushions, searching the gaps for something, and shooting Abby and McGee looks to not speak yet. Tony kept his eyes off Ziva and stepped out of his blind spot to answer, "Enough is when I stop trusting people who are owned by the Macalusos."

Gibbs shot McGee a very pointed look, and it was a testament to the amount of time he'd spent following Gibbs' gut that he instinctively knew he was to say, "Maybe he's not really owned..."

Tony spat out, "The hell he's not, Probie! To guarantee our protection he has to be nothing short of a lieutenant to one of the sons. Anything less an he would've been laughed out of the office. You don't get that high in the organization without spending years doing their dirty work!"

Gibbs held up his hands, motioning for Tony to calm down, both men keeping their eyes on one another while still noting Ziva's slight signing of 'no'.

Ducky released a sigh, perfectly aware of the plot circling around him and mournfully said, "I am sorry, Anthony. I know how you liked Jack. We all did."

Tony bit back the urge to smile at Ducky for so perfectly leading on the people who were listening, and within a breath, Gibbs got a call from Fornell. While he listened to Tobias tell him that the Macaluso goons in the car across the street had been handled, Gibbs nodded to Ziva and she plucked out from under the coffee table the bug that Jack had placed there. She dropped the bug on the table and gave a pointed look to Abby, Abby's three inch platform boot, and the table. Still not entirely sure what was going on, Abby did as she was asked and stomped the living daylights out of the bug.

Gibbs snapped his phone shut and Abby raised her hand, demanding attention. "What just happened?"

Tony heaved a sigh and ran his hands through his hair, sending it sticking up in odd directions. "Jack isn't undercover anymore, he's all the way in."

"He, wait, what?" Abby asked.

Ziva answered with, "His price was our immunity. We're safe because he sold himself."

McGee was starting to snap all the pieces in place but still had to ask, "How did you know about the bug?"

"One, because there were only two places in the room he could've planted it, and two, he told me."

"He _told_ you?"

"Yeah, Probster. He, ya know, _looked_ at the table."

McGee furrowed his brow, then nodded along, realizing half his conversations with Tony took place without words, so why not Tony with Jack. "But does that mean he's in their organization, but still on our side?"

Tony leaned forward and snagged his beer resting on the coffee table and muttered, "No idea, Tim. No idea."

XXXXXXX

McGee and Abby pestered Ducky and Ziva with questions, finding out about what the master plan had been, and just how they figured out what was going on in this living room tonight.

Somewhere in the middle of the interrogation, Tony slipped out to Gibbs' back porch, and after just enoguh time that Abby wouldn't notice the movement, Gibbs joined him. Tony was looking up at stars, soaked in the glow of moonlight and not bothering to feign calm. Gibbs strode out, shutting the back door quietly behind him to not signal the team where they were hiding out. Tony took a long draw on his beer bottle and without looking at Gibbs, muttered, "This is gonna get worse before it gets better."

Gibbs puffed out a sigh in reply, and they both sat in silence for a moment, letting the peace sink through them before they had to go back to their real lives. Gibbs ran through all the possible things he could say to grant Tony some measure of comfort, but his words failed him. He reached out and rested his hand on Tony's shoulder and squeezed."It'll be fine."

"Boss, Jack can't protect us if he ends up dead. And he can't protect us if he really turns."I trust your gut, DiNozzo. If you think he's to be trusted, he will be."

Tony snorted, "Isn't _your_ gut supposed to be making decisions like this?"

"My gut says it believes in you." Tony opened his mouth to offer up some trite and snarky reply, but Gibbs pressed forward. "I know the kind of man you are, Tony. Even when you don't know yourself."

Tony finally turned to look at Gibbs, fighting with himself to not say something not at all funny to break the tension between them. He also tried desperately hard to not stumble out, 'Really?'. Gibbs knew he was thinking it anyway, and with a tap to the bottom of Tony's chin he finished, "Why do you think I hired you in the first place?"

Tony smiled and turned back to Gibbs' door when they heard a resounding smack and McGee shouting, "Abby!". Gibbs shared the grin and muttered, "And even if we're wrong, we'll keep them safe anyway."

Tony's grin widened, and in a move Gibbs wasn't expecting, Tony tapped _him_ on the bottom of the chin. "Don't worry, Boss. Between the two of us, there's no way we could be wrong." Tony gave a smart tap to the wooden door back into Gibbs' house, making Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid comparisons while Gibbs tried to hide his smile.

Yeah, they'd be alright.

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**A/N:** For now, that's it! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I hope to see you soon! Thank you!


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